Traitor
by MonDieu666
Summary: This follows the story of Ardiath, the wife of the traitorous scout who aided the Saxons. It flows through the movie and after! includes our favorite knights! [Discontinued]
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of this except the OC's

**Warning:** rape (not to graphic) and self-harm

**TRAITOR _PROLOGUE_**

The woman watched as her blood dropped into the cup of half clean water. A drop tried to stay together and it swirled that way before mingling with the water so it took on a faint reddish tinge.

She didn't remember when she had taken to self-harm. She knew only that it was her only means of escape. Life in the Saxon army was far from pleasant. But it was necessary.

Her husband had been a Sarmatian knight but he had deserted and made his life in a small costal village, her home. She had been the local beauty, the daughter of the head villager, he was the half crazed but still handsome knight, fearing discovery.

He was heart sore for he had left behind his brother, a year his senior, and his friends but he could no longer bear to remain under Roman decree not matter how kind his officer had been.

She had been the one to bathe his forehead with a cooled washer as he tossed and turned in his tumult fever. She had been his watcher and eventually his lover. The Sarmatian was accepted into this sleepy fishing village on the white cliffs.

It had been a good time filled with happy memories. Her father had eventually married her to the knight. H had some qualms with entwining his daughter to this foreign man but as the youth revealed an eagerness and readiness to integrate into their society, to leave behind his past life, the old man's worries were eased.

Her new husband had been a scout when he served his time for Rome but even his ken eyes didn't see the trouble coming for it came silently and appeared form no where out of the gray churning waters. They had no warning of the Saxon invasion.

They watched her kinsfolk die around them until her father seized the only opportunity for survival and she urged him to take it. She had not the courage to die and he didn't want to leave the vibrant, strong and fiery woman he had come to love. He offered his scouting ability to them in return for his wife's life and his own.

The Saxon's had never employed the services of a scout before and they knew little of this land, only that it was a land that could come under their possession. Rome had fallen to men such as them, why couldn't Rome's colonies?

The accepted, with little grace, the offer of this man and called him traitor with glee. But this man had little choice of his betrayal.

Adapting to army life hadn't been easy for her. She was subject to innumerable horrors. She watched the slaughter of the women from her sister villages and was forced to turn her head being unable to assist them in anyway. Their dying fell on deaf ears. She had to tame and keep under control many of her personal qualities, in which indulgence she had taken for granted.

She was a willful creature so used to speaking her mind and living loftily above the common as was her right as daughter of headman. But her father was dead and she was soon to discover that she was little better than dirt here and to speak her mind was to lose her tongue. So she quelled her passionate persona.

Still she could have found life bearable. It was life after all. Eventually the Saxons would require her husband and her no longer and release them. Cedric had even sworn men against touching her. He found some revulsion in her race; as if a man of his army were to lie with one of them he would contract some hideous disease

She was to find out that deeds could be conducted in secret with her gagged preventing her from crying out. So she suffered the rape of the dirty bearded men of Saxony. Even the knight's son had called upon her. Such was the position of being the only woman in an army.

Her husband knew and could do nothing to prevent it though it pained him to watch his wife's body being used in such the way that it was. She however was becoming numb inside. After the first violation she hadn't cried. The torment welled inside her. Her eyes were clear but they hardened that night. So she became ice and her husband saw the change. She turned to glittering beautiful ice but cold and dangerous.

The only thing they had was a small tent of a man whom had died of some disease that was both lethal and sordid. She shared that tent with her husband. A small sanctuary in a pit of snakes. Or perhaps she was the snake and she was trapped by bears who could tear her apart and trample her is she didn't take care.

And so was life among the Saxons. How she prayed for death and feared it in the same prayer. So unable to abide the thought of passing away she continued to wander through this excuse of an existence. They still remained close to the water, waiting for supply ships to come before they could begin their march of domination and conquering.

She didn't cut further into her arm but let the blood fallen before it could clot. It was vital she caught it all in the water so she could hide evidence of her past time neatly and cleanly. It wouldn't do for her husband to find out what she did. He needed to be strong. He couldn't be preoccupied with a wife who was breaking inside. The thick drops slowed as they slid from the cut and clung to her skin for a few precious seconds, in an attempt to re-enter her body before launching themselves away to hit the now red liquid sparking ripples.

Just as the flow finished and she was about to bind the wound there came a summons.

"Ardiath?" a gruff voice barked. She didn't answer. The man knew she was within.

"Cynric wants you," The brute left soon after delivering the message. The words were like a sword piercing the grimy yellow folds of the tent and try and damage her heart. Hut her heart was clad in iron and her skin was ice.

The words bounced off her like sunlight reflected from a mirror. She had stopped feeling and reacting to such news very quickly. Ardiath washed her arm with clear water before binding it with an old bandage. Then she secured a small scarf around it to conceal the dressing from view lest it rouse questions.

She thrust open the tent flap and threw the bloody water to the ground. She then chucked the wooden goblet back in where it landed close to the pallet she and her husband, Joachim, slept. Ardiath found her worn cloak before pulling it tightly around her so she may step outside with some resistance to the biting cold.

The encampment wasn't a pleasing sight to behold. Burnt out campfires with rood remains littered the area. The ground was muddy. Most of the covering vegetation had been dilapidated away by the constant marching and disrespect of rough Saxon feet. The topsoil had mixed with the moisture of nature. The fog, the damp sea breezes and the infernal rain, which was impossible to escape. The muck already clung to Ardiath's boots.

The air was foully scented with the stench of human waste and the odor of men who had not bathed in a long time. Ardiath tried to breath through her mouth as much as possible though the air seemed to carry a revolting taste as well. The only pleasure Ardiath could find was the gray sea, frothing and in turmoil. It stood for one thing men could not claim and when Ardiath died, she desired nothing more than to have her body cast to the seas. But even the ocean would be lost to her when the army ventured inland.

Ardiath picked her way through the clutter of the makeshift settlement. Joachim was somewhere she didn't know but she expected she'd see him soon after Cynric had used her.

Ardiath came upon a group of men. She squeezed among their ranks to see Cedric staring down his son with the lazy threatening way he had. Cedric had just ordered a woman's death and Ardiath listened with a hard heart as the woman screamed before they were silenced swiftly.

Cedric whispered something low to Cynric. Ardiath couldn't catch what was said but she watched with interest as Cynric's face twitched with repressed anger. Finally Cedric turned away leaving resentment in his wake. It filled Ardiath with a bleak satisfaction that there was unrest in the Saxon camp.

Cynric huffed and in a fit of temper he hid from his father he stormed off, his furs whipping behind him. His shoulder impacted cruelly with Ardiath's. She stifled a gasp of pain and instead turned to follow him obediently like a well trained dog rather than a human being.

"He treats me as one of the low rank soldiers," Cynric burst out in anger once they reached the safety of his tent.

"If you want to challenge me, you have to have a sword in your hand," Cynric mocked his father's low rasping voice.

Ardiath didn't say anything understanding he wasn't inviting conversation but venting through ranting.

"I wonder if I'll survive to take my place as king," Cynric peculated.

And rightly so, Ardiath thought. Cynric was in essence the disappointing son. Ardiath couldn't begin to imagine what it felt like to be a source of contempt for your parents. She had been loved and smothered in affection by her parents.

As if just remembering Ardiath stood there he feverently grabbed her shoulders and threw her violently down on the pallet. He didn't bother removing her dress but rather crudely shoved it up her thighs with bumbling fingers. His eyes were full of malice as he mounted Ardiath.

He entered her violently and she kept her mouth clamped shut. She remained still and silent the whole time he jerked above her, somehow finding pleasure in this heinous act.

Instead she sought the blessed trance like oblivion, which was her much needed refuge. There she was in a place where she didn't feel Cynric's sharp agonizing thrusts. In fact it felt like she had left her body and was watching what occurred on the floor as though it happened to a different person.

Cynric reached the end of his lust and rolled off her. He was panting and sweaty. She lay frozen, no emotion on her face or in her eyes.

"Get out," Cynric hissed. Ardiath hastened to obey. Pushing down her dress before she fumbled outside. She crossed quickly to her tent.

The fires had been started up releasing a glow to combat the increasing darkness and the smoke stung her eyes and parched her throat. She dived into her tent, with the feeling of dread one of the men would grab her and abuse her body but they were not so bold as Cynric and didn't use her casually. So the soldiers only pulled Ardiath occasionally when they had been drinking or Cedric was far away and on these occasions it was groups.

Joachim lay on their pallet. He was on his back with his hands folded across his breast. His dark eyes flashed in the gloom and his ragged hair fell around his face. He held out his arms for her and she sunk into them gratefully. He held her close against his chest. The loved each other so absolutely and purely.

They held each other innocently like this for a while. They hadn't made love since they were captured. Neither could bring themselves to partake in it. Love was there but desire had been destroyed.

"They taunted me with Traitor," Joachim confided in his wife.

"Cynric asked for me today," Ardiath confessed to Joachim. A thick silence descended on the couple. They had both agreed not to discuss the going ons of when Ardiath was called.

Joachim didn't want the agonizing image and Ardiath didn't want to relive the memories though they constantly haunted her.

Joachim marveled at how his wife seemed to retain her beauty during this trial. Her ruby lips were tightly drawn but still lovely and her ebony hair glistened. When he had awoken from the sickness to see her face he thought he had died and she was a goddess and instantly loved her. When he discovered her humanity he had set to the task of wooing her.

The only part of her that was diminished was her blue eyes, which had lost their love and joy, though not their spark, and had frozen over.

'I'm tired, Joachim," Ardiath murmured. He felt her weary voice through her body into his. He pushed the black hair away from her face and kissed her forehead.

"Of course my love, sweet dreams."

"I'd be content with just peaceful sleep," Ardiath revealed her desire flatly.

And so passed an average day of Joachim and Ardiath, unwilling traitors of their country.

And so begins the tale of Ardiath.

**AN: Hey with a new way of life winding down I thought I'd branch out a bit. You guys all remember the British scout? Yeah ok review. Ardiath is very different from Emile. Oh there will be knights throughout this fic but they appear later on. Don't worryI won't neglect to finish my other story. I just thought i see the response to this one!**

**MD666**


	2. II

Devonshirelass

I'm glad I could evoke all these stories with my writing. It's so cool!

etraya 

Yes I realized I hadn't really seen any stories about the scout and I always wondered what his story was.

Me

Here's a chappy. If I start something I usually finish it! I hope you like it!

katemary77

I'm glad it's different. I don't really like using ideas that have appeared before!

chiefhow

Yeah I know it is darker but I wanted to branch out and test my ability in something more serious.

Mustang Gal

I hate Cynric too! Yeah I'm probably going to stick with Joachim even though his name is Geoffrey. I actually like Joachim better! But hey I'm glad you reading this story now! Lol!

PhoenixFyre

Yeah I always thought the best fics are with oc main characters or minor characters because there is so much room to work with them. There might be some romance between Ardiath and the knights (wink wink) it will be very dramatic though!

KnightoftheRoundTable

Thank you for all that. I was worried how I was going to transition between light and dark but people seem to like it so far! YAY!

Kungfuchick

Yeah she is pretty brave! Sorry it took so long to update.

nidriel

Thank you. I'm glad you liked Ardiath. There will be romance between her and the knights. I just love controversy!

ThePerfectCircle

I'm glad you liked a new way of life. I get to focus on this one now. I'm flattered you think I'm a good writer!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except a migraine that seems to come when you actually do homework, pick extension English and argue with the teacher!

**_TWO_**

Joachim woke to see Ardiath's blue eyes shining in the darkness. They always woke and hour before dawn. An hour before the Saxons would rise. Their first night in this camp had resulted in sleep on the ground and a bucket of freezing water being dropped over them in the early morn.

"It's raining," Ardiath whispered excitedly.

Joachim closed his eyes and let his ears take control. He heard the patter of the rain and sighed. Rain meant he would have to run around in the wet, which would make his job, if not difficult, less comfortable. But for some reason Ardiath loved the rain.

He remembered when he was living with her village, which seemed and age from now, she used to run outside and dance delighted in the rain. He could still recall the image of the very first time he saw her out there moving in the drizzle. Her head was thrown back and each drop of water seemed to inspire more joy. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was turned delicately upward in a beautiful smile. If only he could see that smile again.

The drops had slid down her black hair making it slick and damp. It spun around in the air to float down to her shoulders once more when she completed her twirl. Her dress slowly got soaked and clung tighter to her body. The women smiled at her and the men desired her. If he hadn't loved her already, he loved her then!

Ardiath wanted to frolic outside. The rain was beautiful. It was cleansing and pure. Nothing could taint the rain. It was completely oblivious to the Saxon power. She wanted nothing more than to feel it caress her skin like a long forgotten lover. To feel the drops slide over her cheeks and lips and to feel them caught in her eyelashes. She would do all this if she didn't think of the consequences. She hardly thought the Saxons would take warmly to a woman dancing through their camp in sway with the wind and the shower.

Instead she sat up and leaned over Joachim finding his features in the dark. He was asleep but, as if he sensed her presence, she soon saw the starts of a smile on his face. He opened his eyes and their gazes locked, blue and brown together.

"Tell me your story," Ardiath asked of him. Her voice was laden with an emotion that he had not heard since the invasion. She had heard this story before but if she required to hear it again and it would make her happy Joachim would comply.

"Very well," He consented with a sigh. Ardiaths grin broadened and she gently laid her head on his chest. He brought a protective arm around her shoulders and held her close.

"Where do I start?" He asked lowering his eyes so he could gaze at the turned head of his love.

"At the beginning," She suggested helpfully with a whisper. Joachim could feel her mouth move against his chest. Ardiath had her ear pressed against Joachims heart. She could hear it beating slowly and felt the movement of his upper body as he breathed deeply.

"I came from a small Sarmatian village. It wasn't very big but it was home and I loved it more than anything. There was my mother and father and brother, one year my senior. My father was head tribesman. We were very closed and treasured each other. To a little boy this seemed like heaven and in my foolish mind and perhaps in my naivety I assumed this would last forever.

My mother was pregnant. My brother and I prayed for a little girl. We had watched the other boys in the village, the ones with little sisters, and they were their warriors. They loved their little sisters and protected them and played with them.

I think mother wanted a baby girl as well. My father laughed and said he didn't mind either way. He loved my mother like that. They were made for each other. The perfect match," Joachim broke from his story to kiss Ardiath on the top of the head. He felt her smiled, which brought a reflection of her smile to his own face. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"So past nine months and then nine months and one half. The healing woman of the village was worried. My mother should have given birth by now. I didn't understand the complexities of pregnancy but I knew something was wrong. My elder brother, who often seemed so much wiser, also understood that something was amiss. We asked our mother if something was wrong and she told us there wasn't. She tried to reassure us but I could see the fear in her eyes. Father was showing the stress as well. The skin around his face was drawn tight and there lines at the corner of his eyes that weren't there before.

Then one night mother went into labor. My brother and I waited with baited breath all night. Eventually the flap of our tent was drawn back and father appeared. We expected him to come grinning and proclaiming loudly the name of our new sibling. Instead he came quietly.

I saw the tears in his eyes immediately. Then he told us the news. It was a little girl. But she hadn't lived more than a few moments and mother had died with her.

I struggled to comprehend those words. As they sunk in I began to cry. I remember this day so purely because it was the day I lost everyone I loved. Mother died, Father became so caught up in things and my brother turned cold.

The next few years time past quickly. I don't remember most of it. It's caught up in a fog of sadness and distance. My brother and I began competing and he always seemed to beat me. Especially with weapons. I could never best him with a sword or bow. And whilst my father still loved me very much, I knew he favored my brother. It was hard for me to watch.

Then the Romans came. They pulled my brother and I away from everything we had ever known. Father kept his mouth pressed so tight together I feared all the blood had drained away. He was restraining himself from calling out. He would have got us all slaughtered if he attempted to prevent it.

So I rode away with other boys, for that is all we were, from the neighboring villagers. And so I ended in Britain. A Sarmatian knight, slave to the Roman Empire. And I hated them with every breath I took. Nothing could redeem them in my eyes. My commander was an exception but he was part British. Eventually, despite the best commander, I ran away. I crossed forest and land and ended up in a small village where I met and angel and fell in love."

Ardiath closed her eyes at the last part of the story. It was her favorite one from Joachims past.

"Joachim, where are we headed?" Ardiath finally asked. Joachim sighed. His wife was no fool.

"Back to my old post on the wall," He told her though he guessed she already knew.

"So it is possible that your old comrades will slay these vicious Saxons and liberate us?" Ardiaths voice was lilted with something akin to hope.

"It has been fifteen years since we first began to serve. I have no idea how many knights remain and if they will be able to defeat the Saxon army. Remember also that I am a deserter."

"They will save us. Your brother will help us," Ardiath replied confidently.

"I hope so, my angel, I hope so!"

"What is your brothers name again?" Ardiath had been told once before but the name eluded her now like a hare when chased.

"Tristan."

"Tristan," Ardiath repeated slowly to herself. Then she turned the name leisurely over in her head. That moment it became a mantra of strength and hope for Ardiath. Joachims warrior brother was free them both and again she would have a family. Joachim stayed silent. He hadn't seen his brother for a long time and despite the family bond, they couldn't be more different.

"British scum, Cedric wants yer." The harsh voice of a Saxon broke the mood. The rain had stopped and Ardiath looked as hard as rock once more. The light or dawn was teasing at the bottom of the tent. Joachim sighed and got up. Ardiath placed her head on the pallet where her husband had been but it felt cold now. She pulled her self up and pulled her tatty cloak around her shoulders.

Joachim left the tent and Ardiath followed at a slower pace. She watched as the Saxons pulled themselves up and tried to shake of the sleep and the cramp of sleeping on uncomfortable bedding.

When Ardiath reached her husband, he was standing with Cynric and Cedric around a table. There was a dirty weather worn map sprawled out. Ardiath was close enough to hear but not so close her presence would be noted.

"We are three days march from great Wall. If we camp at night- " Joachim began to tell the two head Saxons.

"We won't camp. The wall... what troops are stationed there?" Cynric jumped in.

"Light Roman infantry. And possibly Sarmatian knights. Arthur Castus is their leader," Joachim said wearily.

" Arthur," Cedric murmured speaking for the first time. He spoke his name as if remembering a long forgotten rival.

"Who is this Arthur?" Cynric sounded aggravated. He didn't like facing an unknown foe on the battlefield.

"It is said he has never been defeated in battle. It is said he is a great warrior," Joachim said this as if he didn't know any better. Ardiath shivered at the mention of her husbands commander. She subconsciously began repeating Tristans name again.

"Why should I trust you? You're a traitor to your own people," Cedric coolly asked. Joachim wisely didn't answer. He fought to keep his features under control but he couldn't escape the dejected look that now played on his face as he gazed down. Ardiath kept her face and body perfectly still.

"Tell my father of the Roman estate," Cynric prompted. There was pause before he snapped, "Speak up!"

Joachim was snapped out of the trance and looked up surprised as if astounded to see the Saxons there. He collected himself swiftly though.

"A very high ranking family live there. They are of great importance to Rome." This came easier out of his mouth. He had no problems giving directions to the Romans.

"Father, their ransom could pay for the entire campaign," Cynric was like a puppy, desperate to please his hard father.

Cedric stood there stoically mulling the idea over. He gazed languidly up to Cedric who hovered eagerly nearby.

"Attack from the north with the main army," He stabbed his finger on the map, "You take your men down here; cut off their retreat to the south. Burn every village, kill everybody. Never leave behind you a man, woman, or child who can ever carry a sword."

Ardiath felt a significant horror at the mention of killing every woman and child. She could still see the horrors of the day they came and slaughtered her people. And now this fate was to be delivered to someone else, probably just as innocent, she didn't know if she could bear it. Her hand pressed against the fresh cuts on her wrist made just yesterday. The pain reminded her that she must bear it.

The army went into what Ardiath perceived as chaos. People began preparing for the march. They wouldn't leave till tomorrow but if any man wasn't ready to leave, gods help him because no man here would. Ardiath thought it best to move back to the tent and help prepare with Joachim. She made to leave but Cynric caught her eye. He was giving her a significant look and from the way his eyes heated with lust, Ardiath understood what was to be her fate soon.

"Ardiath," The raspy voice sent chills up her spine. She turned to face Cedric.

'I want you in my tent now," There was no more emotion in his voice as he strode away. Everyone looked within the vicinity looked shocked. Was it not Cedric who had forbidden her to the men? Cynric looked both outraged and taken aback. Ardiath dare not anger Cedric by lingering and so she picked up her skirts and hurried after him.

She could of picked her way to Cynrics tent in the dark she visited it so often. It took a little while longer to find Cedrics. There was fear growing in her stomach. She didn't think Cedric would call her to him. Another man, another chance of getting pregnant. Ardiath knew of ways of ridding herself of a baby but she didn't want to have to resort to that.

When she finally got there she contemplated whether just entering was appropriate. Instead she cleared her throat loudly.

"Enter."

Ardiath nervously pulled back the tent flap and entered. The base of Cedrics tent was covered with thick animal furs. Much different to Cynrics hard ground. She wondered if he would just throw her down on the ground and have his way. At least the fall wouldn't hurt was the absurd thought that drifted into her mind.

"I have a job for you," Cedric stated the words with a schooled expression. Ardiath covered her own feelings with a blank mask of her own. She didn't say anything, instead waiting for him to continue.

"I know you have become my sons bitch," He sated crudely, "Despite the fact I forbade it."

Ardiath neither confirmed this or denied it and remained silent.

"I know he must talk in that tent. I want you to report to me every time he calls you and everything he says. If not… I'll cut your throat."

Ardiath stood there absorbing the information. Cedric had turned his attention to a large map and had entirely forgotten her presence. She took it as permission to leave. She pushed her way out of the tent.

On the way to the tent she filled a small bucket with water and took it back to the tent. Joachim as she guessed had left to go scouting. Cynric had probably arrived here and since he couldn't vent his frustration by slamming into her on some muddy ground he would cruelly send Joachim out so he would be exhausted for the march tomorrow.

Ardiath delicately set the bucket on the ground. She removed her cloak and put it a place it was least likely to get muddy. She returned to hover over the bucket just like she always did. She contemplated the reasons she stood there as she did every time. She just wanted to feel, she decided, and not constantly feel numb.

With a sigh she recovered the small blade and made the first cut in her blemished wrist.

**AN: ok here I am with a new chappy for a new story. Let me know if you think I should up the rating! It might be a good idea! So anyway review people! very original chapter name I know! lol**

**MD666**


	3. March

katemary77

Thanks! I decided to up the rating! Hope you like this chapter as well.

Devonshirelass

Thank you! I did end up upping the rating just to be safe! They are strong people to do so much just so they can live! It won't get any brighter for them anytime soon.

Mustang Gal

Yeah I am kind of going for the sympathy thing when writing about her. It will be interesting to see how she reacts to Tris!

Kungfuchick

I did put it to R just incase. I have a feeling it would probably get a little graphic. I won't bring the knights in till Bandon hill but they will get in there. It's not too far away.

Tomb Raider X

I'm glad you like this! I wish you would stop getting writers block. I luv your story.

Andrea

Yeah I hate Cynric too. He's gross. Yeah the end pairing is my secret but it will be completely dramatic!

Sugar-skylines friend

What I got from that is you like my story? I think. Oh well here's a chappy I hope you like!

banatic66

I love your stories so it's an honor that you've said you like what I've done so far. Yay! I always try and be as original as possible.

Wild-honey-pie

I'm glad you like it! There is romance but Hubby will die. That means crazy controversial stuff! Fun!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except a ton of homework!

**Warning **graphic (rape, self harm)

**MARCH **

Ardiaths legs ached and her knees sent sharp jolts of pain up her spine every time she took a step. Gods know how long she had been walking. She didn't want to think about it. She kept her head high and her mouth firmly sealed. She had been maneuvered into the middle of the main army. If she had been of high rank or of importance this would have been a place of protection. But for her it was a place of torment.

The Saxons poked her with the blunt end of their spears. If she lagged she was hit and yelled at. When she kept up the Saxons cried lewd remarks and leered at her. She kept her face blank all but once. One Saxon stuck his spear in front of her legs. Ardiath didn't see it until it was too late and she couldn't prevent herself from falling.

Her head just missed striking a rock but her hands and knees jarred at the impact. As she kept her face down turned she couldn't suppress a grimace. She could feel the stinging graze on her hands and when she examined her hand she could see the first dots of blood. She didn't yell or cry. Tears didn't threaten to spill. Ardiath struggled to rise before unyielding Saxon foot soldiers could trample her.

Suddenly a rough hand grabbed her forearm and yanked. She was placed on her feet and after she got her balance back Ardiath could look at the one who assisted her. Cedric still had his hand curled around her bicep, nails digging cruelly into her skin. Old Ardiath would have cried out in pain before starting to sob. Now she took a deep breath and inhaled it slowly trying to forget the pain in her body.

"You will walk with me," Cedric commanded of her before walking away still dragging her. The Saxons moved out of Cedrics way. He pulled her to the very front of the army. Cynric shot her a vicious look and Ardiath moved a little so Cedric was in between blocking Cynics view of her. Cedric let her arm go and Ardiath became aware of just how much he had been holding her up. She stumbled a little when he let go and then found her feet.

Here she could look around and see the world as it passed. They had left behind the stark nature of the cliffs. She could no longer see the sea and mourned the fact. She had stopped hearing the gulls hours ago but it hadn't registered in her mind that they had left the coast. They were now approaching a large ominous looking forest. Ardiath could just make out a village but they were still and hours march from there.

"Cynric go check and make sure those damn soldiers are holding rank," Cedric grated out with a cold voice. Cynric looked at him taken aback. Cedric never asked him to venture back and check the army. He looked like he would protest but a swift glare from Cedrics eyes sent him back. Not before he shot Ardiath a glare. Cynric was no fool. He could understand the basis and he knew his removal from the head of the army had something to do with Ardiaths presence.

Ardiath lowered her eyes to the ground and for a while she focused only on the grass and mud passing beneath her feet. Cedric waited until his son had passed completely out of earshot before speaking to the silent girl.

"You will go to his rooms tonight," He drawled this out slowly. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes expecting the woman to dissolve into a blubbering mass of tears. She surprised him by not reacting at all. Indeed Ardiath kept her eyes paying attention to the ground before lifting her head to stare straight ahead. It was another second before she nodded almost inperceivably. Cedric let out a dry chuckle. The girl had backbone.

"You will listen to everything he says and report in the morning," He waited for her to say something still half anticipating a response from her. Ardiath continued to walk.

"Is your soul still there?" Cedric asked. It wasn't a sensitive question, inquiring into how she fared. It was fueled by curiosity. It seemed impossible for a woman to remain so stoic in such a situation. This question caused some rise from her. She raised her head and turned to look at him. Her eyes were clear but such was the intensity of blue that he felt like he had a part of him frozen. Again he laughed callously.

"You should go to the back of the column now. We are about to embezzle that village. Murder, steal, burn and rape," Cedric had turned his pitiless gaze to the village that continued to loom closer. If he had watched Ardiath he would have seen her react for the first time. At the mention of rape she bit her bottom lip hard. Before turning on her heel and walking swiftly back. Cedric turned at the movement and saw the woman retreating. He motioned to Raewald to follow her. It wouldn't do if the girl died before she reached his sons bed.

Ardiath tried not to think about the fate of all the people in the village. She already that none would live through the ordeal. Instead of dwelling on it she offered a silent prayer but not to any god. _Tristan, come save us. Please come save us. _She repeated it over and over in her head only minutely aware she was doing it.

Joachim moved stealthily back towards the Saxons. He could see them through the forest. A black line in the distance approaching the village that was situated at the base of the wood. A twig broke and Joachim jerked his attention to the direction of the sound. He glanced around quickly. He heard a footstep. It was too heavy for an animal. He brought his hand to his bow and arrow. The one the Saxons confiscated when he came back and gave to him every time he went out to scout.

There was silence now but Joachim knew that despite the quiet he was far from alone. He was just with someone who knew what they were doing. Joachim stood like that frozen and ready to fight. He heard a little bit of a noise but it was so distant he had no way of knowing whether it was just the plants or the human. He sighed deeply. He had to assume that the Saxons were being tracked.

He turned and waited and watched. He didn't close his eyes once. Not when the Saxons first entered. The people came rushing out to see what these foreigners would bring. Were they traders or magicians? Joachim watched furiously as the first person was cut down. A little boy. He watched the slaughter with burning eyes. He wanted to run down and kill each one of the Saxons but he held himself back for his sake and his wifes. He saw a woman dragged out and raped repeatedly. He had never seen a woman raped before. He closed his eyes as the third man approached the woman. She had stopped screaming by now. Joachim wondered if she was dead. Did it matter to the Saxons if it was an alive or dead woman they lay with? Joachim couldn't watch it. He didn't want to be able to imagine Ardiath with Cynric.

Eventually when everyone was dead and the food stolen he moved down. The village was burning brightly. He made his way towards Cedric who was standing on the outskirts, holding back as if to admire his handiwork.

"We are very close," Joachim didn't waste time with pleasantries. Cedric would know of what he spoke.

"Are they afraid? Have they heard?"

"There seems to be no panic," Joachims eyes began to water. The smoke was stinging his eyes and his nose. Cedric seemed immune.

"Sound the drums," Cedric roared. The Saxons cheered loudly. To them it was just a victory beat but Joachim knew the sound of the collective drums would be heard at the villa. He thought it would be foolish to alert the people with the pounding of a drum but there was no point reasoning with Cedric. What did Joachim care if his plans went to hell?

"Joachim, you're going out again," Cedric informed the scout carefully watching his reaction. The scout visibly tensed. Cedric was satisfied. It was turning out to be so much more fun to tease the scout than to torment his wife. The scout wisely held his tongue.

"I'm not a cruel man," Cedric continued, "It's just that Cynric has called Ardiath to him tonight. I think it would be better for you not to be here."

Images of the woman getting raped flashed before his eyes. You sick bastard, Joachim thought. He wanted him to know that Cynric would rape his wife again. Cedric stared at him. Waiting for the British scout to disappear back up into the forest. Joachims hand had automatically gone to his sword. It was reaction. Cedric challengingly eyed him. Eventually Joachim turned and walked back towards the forest. Cedric watched the defeated way the man walked and smiled broadly.

"Shut up," He yelled at the drummers.

Ardiath was in her tent. Her stomach churned. She didn't want to go to Cynric tonight. It had been different when he had called her but to go there without summons? Maybe she wouldn't be required to sleep with him but to just get him to talk for a little while before he threw her out.

"You will lie with him. If you don't I shall know," A scratchy voice echoed from her tent flap. Ardiath gave a strangled gasp when she saw Cedric. He looked at her a moment longer to make sure she had heard him before leaving just as swiftly as he had came. He wanted to see the woman break.

Ardiath was wondering if Cedric could read her mind. He had destroyed her only hope. She could feel her heart breaking inside her frozen shell. She took a deep breath and moved to a bucket of water. She seized a wooden cup and dipped it in the water. She watched the water slide inside. She walked over and gently placed it down. She retrieved the blade and cut into her skin violently. The blood flowed strongly and she hissed in pain. She didn't make another cup. There was no need.

Later, after her wrist was bound tight, she made her way to Cynrics tent. She opened the flap without announcing herself. Nobody thought to stop her. They assumed Cynric had called for her. Cynric looked up stunned when she entered but he was quickly on his feet and viciously grabbed her arm.

"What are you doing here?"

Ardiath couldn't answer. She had no idea what to do. Did she tell him she wanted to sleep with him? She would never give him that satisfaction. Instead she sat down on her pallet and looked at him wordlessly. She hoped he would catch on with out her having to say anything.

'Oh so you want that do you my little whore? Husband not keeping you satisfied?" Cynric looked her over. She wanted to stab him. She wished he'd just take her and get it over and done with.

"Well if I give you what you want you have to be my little slave," Cynric murmured suggestively bending to toy with a slither of her hair. Ardiath resisted the urge to scream that she wanted nothing less.

"Take off your clothes," Cynric commanded. Ardiath looked up and even she couldn't keep the look of disbelief of her face. Cynric continued to look at her. Ardiath rose to her feet and with barley concealed shaking hands she removed her dress. Cynric had seen her naked before but she had never been forced to parade it in front of him like this. She looked straight ahead as he walked around examining her body.

"Get on your back," He commanded now. Ardiath was beginning to understand that he was going to treat her like she was his puppet. Ardiath felt like she had no control and she didn't and she hated it. She did what he told her to.

"Do you want me to put this inside you straight away?"

Ardiath looked at him carefully trying to judge what the correct answer would be. Cynric wasn't asking what she wanted. He was making her guess what he wanted. She shook her head. Cynric smiled. She had guessed right.

"Close your eyes," Cynric was sneering. She really didn't want to but she did anyway. She felt him kneel beside her. There were coarse hands on her knees and thighs. She resisted the urge to retch. He bent her knees up and spread her legs. Ardiath tried to control her body. She didn't want to blush at her exposure. She desperately tried to think of the sea but it didn't work because Cynric had taken this opportunity to slip a finger inside.

She could tell he was smirking as he traced his other hand up her thighs while his other hand moved against her inner thighs. He added another finger. Ardiath could feel herself reacting to this motion and she felt disgusted with herself.

"Do you want me?" Cynric asked. She didn't move. Ardiath was trying not to feel anything about the sensations tingling through her body.

"Answer me and do not lie," He snarled.

She didn't want him but again it wasn't about her.

"Yes," She forced out hoarsely. She felt him withdraw his fingers. She could hear him move around the room and then come back so he was between her legs now.

"Keep your eyes shut," He dictated. He entered her suddenly. She didn't cry out but she wanted to. He moved straight away. It hurt like it always hurt. It was this time that Ardiath usually retreated to her trance. But this time Cynric was going to be especially malicious.

"Tell me you want this!" He demanded. Ardiath knew the routine now.

'I want this," She responded. It was flat and emotionless but it seemed to satisfy Cynric.

"Tell me it feels good! Tell me you like!"

"I want this. I like it. It feels good," Ardiath recited back to him. Cynric groaned against her.

"Show me how much. I want to hear you groan," Cynric asked more of her. He was beginning to pant. Ardiath tried to do what he asked and still block herself off. But she couldn't. She couldn't escape. Every time he spoke. Every time he made her speak she was so aware of him. His hands on her body. Of him moving roughly inside.

It was the most torturous hour of her life. And when he finished with her he made her lie there naked in front of him and tell him how much she enjoyed it. Ardiath felt sick to her stomach. Than he informed her that she should come back the next night and he would think up something a little more creative.

She stumbled out of the tent then. She hated Cynric. She felt dirty. She staggered back to her tent. She hadn't even got anything to tell Cedric. She could felt the pain growing inside her. That wasn't right! Not so soon after cutting herself. She frantically reached for the blade and water and forced herself to replace tonight's pain with new pain.

**AN: As you may be able to see I upped the rating. From now on anytime there is something I think people may not like in the chapters I'm going to put a warning up the top but so I don't spoil the story it will just be warning. So just so people understand warning means there could be rape, self-harm or graphic violence in this coming chappy. Well hope you guys review. I'm alternating between updating this fic and my blade one which has yet to be reviewed.**

**MD666**


	4. Assertive

**Reviewers:** due to complications I cannot answer every reviewer, as is my custom. I'm sorry for this rudeness and assure you it's a one off. Thank you for reviewing!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything

**ASSERTIVE**

Ardiath didn't wake for a long time that morning. The usual routine of waking an hour before sunrise had been destroyed. Ardiath was tired and felt sickened. Ardiath was shivering on the hard ground. She was alone. Joachim had left to scout the night before. In part she was relieved. She had the privacy to slowly cut into her arm and release the pain inside of her. She felt another wave of despair and rolled over to scramble for the blade. Her hands closed around the blade. She never had chance to use it though.

"Ardiath, Cedric wants you in his tent."

She looked up. She had nothing to tell the Saxon commander. With effort that can only be found in the midst of hopelessness she pushed herself up. Ardiath reached out and pulled back the tent and began to pick her way through the camp. There were lewd calls as usual but they were more subdued this morning. The soldiers all knew she wasn't moving to Cynric's tent.

When she reached Cedric's tent, she cleared her throat. Cedric heard the little cough and glance up. It was the woman.

"Enter," He said with his scratchy voice. Ardiath did as told. She averted her eyes to look around the tent. Cedric's was much grander. He had furs on the ground. Cedric surveyed her with her down turned head.

"What have you got for me?"

She answered but Cedric missed what she said for she spoke so quietly. Cedric leaned closer and that was his invitation to speak again.

"Nothing," Ardiath whispered. Cedric saw the woman's outside demeanor remain unchanged but he could smell the fear.

'That is not good enough," He told her quietly. One might mistake his calm tone for forgiveness but Ardiath was not that foolish.

"I know," Ardiath replied.

"Do you really know, Ardiath, because I'm not sure you do? I take you in and let you live and you can't even do a simple job for me. Your husband is providing us with a service Ardiath. What are you giving us?"

"I did the best I could."

"Not good enough. I'm beginning to think you can't pull your weight," Cedric drawled slowly.

"The agreement was our lives for Joachim's scouting."

"No it was for you to give something back in exchange for your lives. Both of you," Cedric watched the woman closely. She was twitching in rage. Cedric was surprised. He hadn't expected her to react to these words but it was such fun when she did.

"I think I may have to get you to lie with Cynric's friends too just to hear what they speak."

Ardiath punched Cedric. She was not a strong woman and weeks marching had not really increased this but a direct punch from anyone to the face was bound to hurt. Cedric didn't even move his head. That frightened Ardiath.

He flexed his fingers but kept them at is side.

'You will go to him again tonight," Cedric instructed coolly.

"You are despicable," The words spilled from Ardiath's mouth, "What have I done to you that you would subject me to such treatment. Am I little better than a dog? You have subjected me to the extremist of humiliation and then expect me to do it all again! A plague on you and yours," Ardiath hissed. Her blues eyes flared with a fire that hadn't been seen.

Cedric struck her. It was a casual off hand blow but it sent her reeling down on the ground. She tasted a warm coppery tang in her mouth and spat her own blood on Cedric's nice furs.

"Rot in hell, Cedric," She spluttered between mouthfuls of blood.

"Maybe I will but you better be in my son's tent tonight or I will personally offer you to the whole army repeatedly."

He kicked her out then. He lifted her up by the scruff of her neck and sent her sprawling outside. She knelt in the mud cursing her own foolishness. Why had she aggravated the Saxon lord? It would get her nowhere. She closed her eyes and repeated Tristan's name to herself. She must have spoken it a few hundred times before she felt strong enough to stand.

She had to pack up there little tent by herself. Joachim was out still. The Saxons jeered at her as she struggled with the great weight. Once in a pack she could carry it easily but getting it in needed a lot of strength. On the road she was pushed into the middle of the main army.

It was a repeat of yesterday. Prodding and pocking with spears and even the occasional trip. Ardiath was thankful for the halt when it came. She pushed her way to the front of the army. Her heart soared when she saw Joachim talking to Cedric and Cynric. He was speaking quickly and gesturing frantically.

Cedric nodded then pointed back towards the forest. Joachim stiffened and he turned his gaze back towards the army. Ardiath held her breath hoping he would see her. He did! Cedric followed his gaze. He talked sternly to Joachim before dismissing him with a wave. He then turned back to converse with his son and generals.

Joachim ran back to his wife and embraced her. She was cold but so solid and real that Joachim felt like weeping. She clutched him feverishly. For a moment the pair forgot Saxons surrounded them.

"Listen, I haven't much time," Joachim said starting up.

"But surely you aren't going out again. You're exhausted," Ardiath exclaimed shocked. Joachim did look weary. He hadn't stopped moving for an entire two days.

"Yes I have to. Cedric ordered it," He broke off when he noticed Ardiath gained a frightful glint in her eye, "don't look at him that way love he may have us killed at any moment."

"I punched him yesterday," Ardiath looked sheepish but defiant. Joachim almost burst with pride and fear. He was scared because this angel in his life could have been seriously hurt. He was happy because it meant she still had some of her old spirit left. He had thought he was watching his wife fade into nothingness. A walking empty corpse but apparently that was not the case and it gave him hope. He wound a hand carefully in her dirty black hair and kissed her lips.

"I am so proud but it must not happen again."

"Of course my love," Ardiath agreed and finger the bandage covering her scar and cuts.

"Now listen. So one is following the army. Some one of great skill that I cannot catch. I must assume their intention is to finally attack the army with a great force. You must be ready in case of an attack. If they are attacked, run! No armies in this land slaughter a helpless woman. Not even the Romans. You will be protected and I will find you," There was a pause, "If I survive."

Ardiath gasped, "No!"

"This scout is of unsurpassed skill," Joachim insisted, "I have no doubt that by now he would have caught a glimpse of me and connect me with the enemy. Should there be an attack I am just as likely a target as any of the Saxons."

Ardiath bit down on her lip to stop it from quivering. What was wrong with her today? Everything was reducing her to a sniveling wreck. She took a deep breath and fought for the control she had had so much of. It wouldn't help Joachim to see her wailing.

"I understand," She said slowly. She looked at the man before her. His mouth was like a small line in his face, tightly pressed together as he gazed at her. There were dark circles under his eyes and they had lost their spark. They seemed so pale and bland. He looked like he had when he had been dragged into her room half delirious with fever and shouting at her not to let the Romans take him. His hair was getting a slight dust of silver in it. She sighed and reached up to brush it out of his eyes.

He grabbed her hand and held it to his lips. They were cracked from, the cold and the wind but Ardiath could think of nothing that would feel this good.

"I have to go soon," He whispered to her, "I only have until the army marches again then I must scout."

Ardiath felt her resolve weakening. She had borne all she could for so long. All she wanted was one night in her husband's arms to sleep like she used to. It was becoming too much for her to bear. She was only one woman and not an old one. She hadn't been a leader or a warrior or wise woman. She was only Ardiath. The healer. What strength had she to draw on in such times? Tears pricked her eyes and she battled for management of her emotions.

Joachim watched the struggle his wife was having and it broke his heart. He gently placed his hands on either side of her face and looked her desperately in the eye.

"Ardy," He used his pet name for her. He only used it in the most intimate of occasions. "Ardy. You have been so strong. Why can't you let yourself cry this once?"

"I don't need to cry," Ardiath protested softly.

"Yes you do."

"No," Ardiath insisted.

"You're hurting and you have to accept that one day I might not come home…"

"No."

"And then I won't be able to comfort you ever again…"

"Stop."

"Ardy, please! I want to stroke your tears away and hold you and tell you it will be fine at the end of this."

"Please no," Ardiath couldn't keep her voice strong.

"Ardiath I love you. This life or the next I always will."

"I love you too," Ardiath gave a small cry as the pain within her heart became too much to bear and she let out a strangled sob that led to full fledge tears. Ardiath was ashamed but Joachim held her and stroked her hair and whispered to her.

"It will all be fine."

"It will all be fine," Ardiath whispered after him.

"You are so strong and nothing can touch your spirit."

"I am strong and nothing can touch my spirit," She repeated hastily.

"I love you," He whispered in her ear.

"I love you," The reply was returned through tears.

"I love you so much!" Joachim could feel tears in his own eyes now.

"As much as I love you," Ardiath assured him. He moved back slightly so he could tilt her head and kiss her mouth. Ardiath kissed him back hungrily. Her arms were tight around him as thought she wouldn't let him go. Joachim could feel she had stopped crying.

He felt better. He was unnerved by her strength. He felt like he couldn't reach her and as if he couldn't comfort her. To hold her while she cried had made him feel like he could finally give something back to her.

Ardiath felt a great pressure released. She felt strong again. Like she could take on anything. But Joachim had to leave now. Cedric had signaled for the start of the march. Joachim squeezed her hand once more before leaving. Ardiath watched him go with dry eyes.

Cedric had watched this from afar and so had Cynric. Cedric noticed the couple's affectionate goodbye. Cynric had watched with a strange feeling rising in his stomach. A person more in tune with their emotions would have recognised this emotion, as jealousy but Cynric didn't have much understanding of his emotions.

Ardiath was exhausted from the march. The men seemed to throw off the cramps of the march by fighting. Ardiath wandered past the fighting with distaste. It wasn't just wrestling. It was knife fighting. Ardiath stopped when something silver caught her eye. It was a knife. Ardiath tried to repress her excitement. Causally she bent down and pocketed the knife. With a smile she returned to her tent to prepare for her evening visit to Cynric.

**AN: review please I was trying to show how much the couple care for each other. By the way I didn't like this chappy!**

**MD666**


	5. Burn

Katemary77 

Thanks! The knights aren't here. They won't be until Bandon Hill. But it will be worth the wait I promise.

Chiefhow 

I reckon Cynric needs to die. Thank god I'm sticking to the story! I'm glad you didn't mind the last chappy. I thought it was rushed!

Devonshirelass

I really wanted to show just how much the couple loved each other! This chapter isn't so much on the emotions but it has plot progression!

Je suis une pizza 

I am more than happy with Para you wrote it was a great review. I'm glad you liked the emotions in the last chappy and I agree that I've never really showed the couples love for each other!

Mustang Gal

I'm a bit of a romantic lol so I manage to stick nice moments in!

**Disclaimer:** uh huh!

**Warning**

**BURN**

"He resents you," Ardiath informed Cedric cautiously. Cedric stood considering what the woman said.

"I knew that. What else can you tell me?"

"He still wants to make you proud," Ardiath addressed all this to the side of the tent. Her hands deep within the pockets of her coat. She turned the knife over and over in her hands. Feeling the cool steel against her hot hands infused her with a sagacity of power. Ardiath had never stolen anything in her life but she had stolen this knife from the ground. It filled her with resolve so when the time came she might use it to end a few of these Saxons moments on earth.

"I knew this also. What good are you?" Cedric cunningly remembered what had occurred when he last questioned her this way. She had flown into a rage and struck him. Ah such delight to see the woman snap. Ardiath didn't take the bait.

"Well how else are you going to get any information? In case you haven't noticed there are no other women among this camp. Are you going to use your second in commands? I cannot see that working for some reason," Ardiath's voice was flat but there was a charming tang of wit. Ardiath waited for the wrath of Cedric but remained confident in the point she had made. Cedric surprised her by chuckling slowly.

"You are quite right, girl!"

Ardiath didn't answer but stared straight ahead, her body rigid! Cedric could see that she had rebuilt her defenses and it would take another plan of attack to make her yell again. He slowly circled her. Ardiath watched him warily out of the corner of her eye. He moved behind her and lifted a lock of her black hair. Cedric wondered what the woman would look like clean and preened.

"When was the last time you washed?" He asked near her ear. Ardiath gave a slight ascension of her shoulders in a tiny shrug.

"Approximately?" He lowered his voice slightly. Ardiath narrowed her eyes before answering.

"Before you came and ruined my village," Ardiath hadn't thought of that fact for a while. The first few days she resented being dirty and grimy but she had accepted it. Besides in such an army she was no worse.

"I would like to see you washed," Cedric told her. Ardiath was confused now. Where was Cedric leading with this?

"When we get to the Roman villa you use their baths," Cedric commanded. He paused and wrapped his arm around her body, "then come to my tent."

Ardiath ripped herself from his arms and turned to stare at him. To Cedric's satisfaction the animalistic glint had entered her eyes.

"Pardon?" Ardiath asked very slowly. Her voice neither shook with fear nor held any doubt. It was steady and Cedric knew well that she had heard perfectly the first time.

"Wash and then come to my tent," Cedric drawled insultingly over articulating every syllable.

"You are despicable," Ardiath snapped then exited the tent. Cedric leaned on the table. He had been so close to getting a rise from her! It amazed him that even in a situation like this she could leave a room like royalty. Must put her back in her place, Cedric thought.

Ardiath was furious on the inside but on the exterior she was cold. She didn't like that Cedric was the only one who could make her lose her temper. She could be raped by his son Cynric and not be affected. She could lie there completely numb but a conversation with his father sent her fuming.

She had an hour before the army would march again. She withdrew herself into her tent. She was shaking now. Cedric's words were sinking in and the fear was awakening with in her breast. She fumbled for the bucket of water and filled the wooden beaker with it. She traced the paths of water that ran down the outside and brushed the mud and grass off the bottom of the cup. She set it down and pulled out the small blade and examined it slowly. It was so small. She put it carefully back in its hiding spot and instead pulled the large knife.

Ardiath unsheathed it and turned it over so it caught the little glimmers of light that came from the rising sun. She lowered it the exposed skin on her wrist. She took a brief moment to scrutinize the scars and healing that covered the skin. Ardiath selected an unblemished part of her wrist and dragged the tip of the dagger across. It was hot and sharp. She watched the blood well up in the thin cut. Slowly the knife began moving. Carefully and calculated but Ardiath hardly seemed aware of the pattern she was cutting into herself.

As if the part of her controlling her hand knew when to stop, the knife fell from her hand. She looked down to inspect her arm. It was bloody and she couldn't see the scratches from where the blood oozed. She lowered a piece of sullied cloth into the water and gently washed the blood away. She winced as it stung the slashes.

The cuts, like angry ropes, became clear. After she had cleaned them blood immediately started trickling from them again but she could still see what was splayed across her arm. Ardiath gasped. _Tristan._ She snatched for the scarf and wrapped it around her wrist obscuring her view of the word. She slowly sank to her knees, ignoring the dirt and mud that clung to her and her clothes. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to remain in control.

Ardiath tried not to think about it on the way to the villa and indeed it was banished from her mind for a short time when the villa had come into view. Ardiath had lived her life on the coast and her should was of the ocean. She never found much beauty in the forest. It was dark and oppressive and didn't seem to have any spirit or song. But the villa was nice. It was big and beautiful and the part of Ardiath that clung to her old life enjoyed the fantasy of living there. Ardiath entertained the idea of living in a home like this on the sea. Not having any obstructions and rules. Not having to live in terror. To not be ravaged each night.

The fantasy was broken by the voice of Cedric.

"Ardiath, don't you have something to do?"

Ardiath glared at him but turned obediently and went towards the villa. There was a servant still inside. Cedric had instructed her to wait and assist Ardiath. She led her towards the bath, which was feed by hot springs. Ardiath gratefully lowered her body into the steaming water. The maid provided her with cleaning tools. Ardiath debated the notion of not bathing just to contradict Cedric but decided against it since it was in her best interest to wash. She scrubbed the grim from her body and washed her hair. Ardiath forgot for a while the reason she was cleansing and lost herself in the pleasure of being sanitary.

Eventually she heaved herself out of the water and was confronted with a dress that was very Roman. Ardiath didn't find it to be in her style but she slipped it on nonetheless. Her own soiled rags were disposed of but her cloak was kept. Ardiath didn't let the cloak, which contained the knife out of her sight. Eventually she was finished and went outside the villa to where the Saxon army was congregating. Some of the village was already burning.

Ardiath tried not to look at the flaming houses and crops and instead searched for Cedric. She coughed as the smoke irritated the back of her throat. Her hair hung wet around her ears and tickled her neck. She saw Cedric and Cynric leaning over a table contemplating a map. Ardiath moved closer. She was so much aware of the unpleasant body odor of the Saxons now that she was clean and scented of flowers.

Cynric looked at her appraisingly and Ardiath contained a shudder. Cedric spared a quick glance to see if she had followed his orders. As much as she hated these two men it was the best place to be to gain any information and discover what was going on.

"Highness," One man ran up to address Cedric, "We found something."

Cedric glanced up and nodded indicating the man should lead and he would follow. Ardiath fell into step behind him and Cynric walked at her side. Cedric strode through the burning village with a purpose. Ardiath's heart gave a leap when Joachim ran up. He didn't even look at her before catching with Cedric.

"I found tracks coming from the south, but none going back. Horsemen, traveling light and fast. Could be Roman cavalry. Could be knights," He blurted out, rushed!

Cedric halted suddenly and turned to face his British scout, "They know we're after them."

Cynric narrowed his eyes. Ardiath's heart was pounding with joy. First the Roman family hadn't been here but the majority of the people had been evacuated as well. It meant fewer deaths she had to watch with a hard heart to escape guilt.

Joachim looked calm on the outside but secretly he was pleased as well. He had a suspicion it was Sarmatian knights and at this particular moment, as he watched the village burn, he could imagine nothing better than to see his brother again with his old companions ride down and slaughter Saxons.

The two commanders looked at the scout expectantly. Joachim sighed. He knew they would ask him this.

"They'll head east now. Through the mountains," Joachim reluctantly revealed the ideal route for the fugitives. There was a commotion and Ardiath swung her head round in the direction of the noise. She had just watched, disappointed, as Joachim reveled the direction of the British. It was monks. Being dragged by Saxons. He was sobbing and crying half hysterical.

"God's holy work! They defiled… I am a servant of God," The monk wailed feverishly. Ardiath pitied him. He looked upset. It didn't matter. The Saxons would be ending his misery soon, Ardiath thought hardening her heart. Joachim was staring at the monk with distaste. He knew the type. These were the ones who killed pagans. Joachim considered the appropriateness of spitting on the withering monk.

"He says they walled him up in a building and took the family. Someone who goes by the name of Artorius," The Saxon solider explained. Cedric looked quickly at Joachim whose eyes had widened.

"It's him, its Arthur," He spoke slowly. Ardiath looked sharply at her husband who pointedly avoided her eyes. The Arthur? He was her husband's commander once. That meant Tristan had been here as well. Her hand gripped her wrist tightly. The cuts hurt underneath her pressing fingers. Cedric was thinking swiftly. He faced Cynric who looked eager to kill something.

"Take your men east. Hunt them down. I'll take the main army to the Wall. Bring the family there," He decided. He paused and thought about it before turning to Joachim, "you go with him."

Joachim kept his face emotionless, "And the monks?"

"Put them back where you found them," Cedric replied without hesitation. Ardiath's stomach dropped, as she comprehended the fate of the men. The men began struggling and she turned helplessly as she watched them be heaved back. The leader was yelling desperately at the Saxons.

"I am a servant of God! I am a servant of God! I am…" The monk was silenced. Perhaps by a punch? Ardiath's mouth hung open slightly. The Saxons may have been killers but never had Ardiath seen them so cruelly put an end to a mans life. She fingered the knife in her coat. Joachim was watching with satisfaction. For a tiny fraction he agreed with the Saxons.

"Burn it all!" Cedric completed his vindictiveness. He strode away and Cynric followed to prepare his half of the army to leave. Joachim turned to his wife and slowly looked her over. He got a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Hello," He said slowly and suggestively. Ardiath was confused for a second then remembered her new garb and hygienic state. She giggled shyly. He snaked one arm around her waist and pulled him tight to her.

"Hello to you too," Ardiath huskily replied.

"You make me feel less then adequate," Joachim joked gesturing to his filthy appearance.

"Yes you are quite grubby," Ardiath joked.

"You're beautiful," Joachim said his voice turning serious.

"Thank you," Ardiath accepted the compliment with a smile. They were trying to burry their feelings under humor. Ardiath didn't want to think about him leaving again but that was just what he would have to do. In fact Cynric chose that time to call out his march.

'I have to go," Joachim told looking into his wife's eyes.

"I know!"

Ardiath couldn't think of anything else to say to her husband. How could words come close to the emotions raging through her body? Joachim felt the same. He kissed her on the lips and then turned to leave. Ardiath watched that section of the army march out with a heavy heart. She only noticed Cedric's presence after Joachim had entirely left her sight.

"Come Ardiath," He said gruffly. Ardiath nodded emotionlessly. He left and Ardiath followed. Behind her the fire raged as everything descended into flames. Ardiath could only hope that her future was not going to be destructive flames like her past.

**AN: I actually like this chappy for some reason! Well I have to go get ready. I'm seeing Constantine for the second time. I loved it heaps! Well toddles people and review. Oh just to clarify Cynric wants to use Ardiath's body and Cedric doesn't! He only said it to mess with her mind. For those people who are anxiously waiting the arrival of the knights… don't worry they will get here. It might not be for a few more chappy's but trust me… I'll make it worth the wait. I won't be updating till afterI update my Blade fic. Review please.**

**MD666**


	6. Stalked

**Disclaimer: yeah yeah… I own nothing… still!**

**STALKED **

Cedric hadn't sent Ardiath out. Maybe he was cold. Maybe it was because of his nightmares? Cedric had nightmares! Ardiath knew this because as she lay there he was twitching! And moaning. Pathetic little cries that you may hear from a wounded animal or a small child. Ardiath didn't feel any pity. Her icy eyes narrowed in the dark. She couldn't understand why she was here. He hadn't used her body… hadn't even remotely wanted it and yet here she lay.

She tried not to think about Joachim. Alone with Cynric. Fighting!

The next morning was frigid. Like it always was. The mist was heavy this morning and it burdened Ardiath. They were marching. Marching and following Cynric. Ardiath could hear the drums. Beating like her frantic heart. It was fluttering because she of all people knew what those drums meant. They were coming! The Saxons they were coming… to kill us all the children and the elderly on men and her parents. Before Ardiath would have cried at the memory now she fought on, squashed between two huge hairy and filthy soldiers, besides… the tears would just freeze any way.

They were getting closer. To the knights… and Tristan. He was going to save them. Arthur would forgive Joachim for fleeing and they would be free of the Saxon's. And Ardiath could heal. She could learn to love again, to feel again. The very concept made Ardiath's heart swell. A ghost of an emotion so long ago lost.

They stopped and suddenly. Cedric had his hand in the air. They had barely been marching for three hours.

"We camp here!" He said roughly before stalking off. Ardiath watched the man go in despair. They would never catch Joachim if they rested. She shrugged off her pack and ran after him. Growing in boldness at the thought of not seeing Joachim that night. Hearing about Tristan.

"We have to keep moving," Ardiath told him urgently.

Cedric turned to see who dared challenge him.

"I once told Cynric if he wanted to challenge me he better have a sword in his hand. The same goes for you," He drawled. He went to walk away. Ardiath ran in front of him blocking his way. Inside he was questioning her insistence. Outside he scowled.

"We will never catch up if we stop and camp here. What's more, what is your reasoning for it? We've only been moving for three hours. You haven't gone soft on us so I would like to know the reason."

Cedric crossed his arms and exhibited more patience than he ever had in his life, "What do you know about battle tactics, Ardiath?"

"Nothing, but-"

"I do. And I can tell you if we camp here it will not be long before we see my son and your husband again."

Ardiath opened her mouth to argue again but Cedric held up one finger to silence her. Then he walked away. Ardiath watched him go. She had never really questioned Cedric's motives before. What drove him to do all these murderous deeds? Was it power? Or profit? She had never wanted to know but for the first time she wondered. Wanted to understand what was inside Cedric's head.

When he was out of sight she carefully unwrapped the bandages on her arm. Tristan! There, branded onto her skin, was the man she hoped would be her savior.

"Please do not let me disappointed," She prayed to anyone who would listen, "Please let him be what I hoped."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tristan saw his brother at the same time Joachim noted him.

Very few things took the scout of guard but this was one of those rare moments where he was shocked. It explained so much though. The nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. A recognition.

That recognition was curling into disgust. His brother had deserted Arthur but now he was with the Saxons. Leading them to him. All those years people had slandered his brother. Called him all names. Deserter, conspirator and betrayer. He had ignored those words. Let them roll of him like water. Now those words clung to his skin and hurt his heart. His brother had betrayed him. He was a traitor.

Joachim felt like he could see right into Tristan's eyes. His blue eyes meeting his brothers darker ones. Their faces so close. Tristan's prominent cheekbones and Joachim's gaunt face. Only their hair was similar. Proved they were related. But Tristan had braided it. He had gone primal. He had a feral glint in his eye contrasting his stoic face. And Joachim could feel the disappointment. The anger and the sorrow. He could see the other knights too but they wouldn't recognise him.

Ardiath had put all her hope in his brother. Joachim realised that he too had held a tiny flame that his brother would forgive and rescue them. His brother didn't understand. Tristan trusted his eyes, he knew words lied. He would kill Joachim before they got into earshot. Joachim closed his eyes and accepted that and then the battle begun.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The fires burnt bright. Ardiath panted at the red-hot pain of the knife across her flesh. She saw her smooth skin and pictured Cedric's throat. It made her push harder. Much too hard. There was too much blood coming from the wound in her arm.

She could hear noises. They were back. With no time to hide her bleeding arm she wrapped a messy bandage around her arm and pulled on the coat. She walked outside expecting to hear boisterous welcome homes but there were only confused murmurings.

She approached the fire. Cedric sat there with a few men in front of him. Cedric and Joachim were two of them. She was ecstatic and made as if to run over to him but he saw her and subtly shook his head. Ardiath was beginning to comprehend what had happened. The scarce men standing before Cedric were what remained of the raiding party. Ardiath placed her hand over her mouth. Joachim had told her there were only a few knights. How had they massacred that whole Saxon strike force?

Ardiath gasped as Cedric suddenly lunged forward and dragged the knife down Cynric's face. There was silence in the camp and she heard Cedric inform them all,

"I have no son."

Cynric screwed up his face and breathed harder before lashing out and stabbing the closest man in the gut. Joachim winced, next time it could be him. Cynric stormed off. Ardiath didn't think he would call her tonight. He wouldn't want her to see his shame up close. Maybe tomorrow. Joachim broke away from the group and walked over to Ardiath.

She held out her hands to him. He took them and buried his face in them. They were so soft and small and innocent.

"What happened?" Ardiath felt tears on her palm.

"Dagonet. He sacrificed himself," Joachim whispered, his head still between her hands.

"Tell me about him," Ardiath encouraged soothingly.

"He was so big but incredibly gentle. If anyone would have forgiven men for running away it was him," Joachim said quietly.

"You did not run away," Ardiath tried to convince him.

"I ran away," He cut her off violently, "And because I ran away Dagonet's dead. One of my friends is dead."

"Because you ran away I am alive," Ardiath said shortly.

"And for that I am forever grateful," Joachim's eyes were filled with genuine love. Ardiath's own blue eyes seemed to soften. Joachim stifled a yawn.

"Go lie down," Ardiath instructed kindly.

"Come. I will sleep better with you in my arms," Joachim made to lead her away but Ardiath stayed still.

"I will be in a few moments," Ardiath assured him. Joachim nodded, trusting his wife, and left. Ardiath hurried to the outskirt of the camp. She pulled off the coat and pulled away the bandages. There was some snow. She used that to carefully clean away the blood on her arm. There had been much too much blood. She was going to have to be more carefully.

Ardiath froze. She could feel a presence. Hastily she wound the bandage around her arm again. She pulled her coat of the ground and searched the tree's some one was in there. Watching her. Ardiath was frightened.

_Tristan watched the girl with raven hair and blue eyes. The army whore. There was always one woman willing to latch herself on to a group of fighting men for a crust and a bed. Tristan had had his own experience with them but never his enjoyment. That was not his taste. _

_He had watched fascinated as the woman removed a bloodstained bandage and revealed a cut up arm. She rubbed snow over the wound. The snow fell to the ground, tinted red in the dark. The moon illuminated it. He could almost smell the copper tang. The cuts. From a distance he could see the silver sliver of scars traveling across her skin. Tristan began to doubt whether she was a willing whore after all. He could swoop down right now and save her. Be her savior if you could ever apply such grand a word to the humble scout. _

_Her eyes were up and searching the trees. She was aware of him. Tristan was about to move. He could get her away. She would be safe at the fort. No more trouble. He took a step forward when he saw movement. Someone was coming toward the woman. Tristan reached for his bow. He could dispatch the man easily. She wouldn't scream. Somehow he just knew she would not. He drew the arrow back and was waiting to let it fly._

_He lowered the bow. His brother came out of the dark and put his hand on her hip. She didn't push it away but smiled. He could hear what they were saying._

"_I was worried about," Joachim whispered._

"_You shouldn't worry about me," The dark haired woman murmured back._

"_It's what husbands do. Now are you ready for sleep. The bed felt empty with out you."_

_The woman smiled and followed his brother; her husband, away but she sent one look back. Confused and curious, searching the trees still. Tristan moved further back. Back into the shadows and then she was gone. His brother suddenly didn't seem so corrupt now Tristan had seen what he was fighting for. _

_But love was a complicated emotion and Tristan was not going to let love for his brother cloud his judgment. If Joachim had to die to save Arthur and Lancelot, Bors, Gawain or Galahad... Then he would. Maybe if Joachim had died earlier Dagonet would still be alive. As he disappeared into the night he had no way of knowing his brother was thinking exactly the same thing. And because Tristan did not know he did what came naturally._

Ardiath slept well. She hadn't expected to after feeling that presence in the woods. But, though it might sound peculiar, she had felt no ill will or malice towards her. And so she had slept. Safe in her husbands warm arms. And then dawn broke.

There were shouts. Ardiath and Joachim scrambled out of the bed, hastily pulling on clothes. The first thought was the camp was under attack. The followed the shouts till the centre. Cedric, Cynric and the rest of the men crowded around a large pile of bodies. The sentries from last night watch. Ardiath Felt sick. The faces were blue and had expressions of horror.

Joachim was pale and white. He looked like had seen a ghost. Cedric was barking orders to have the woods searched. Cynric was as well. The men dispersed. The leaders of the Saxon army didn't even spare a look for the aghast pair.

Joachim knew what had happened. He knew the minute he saw the bodies. It was a wonder he was not dead as well. Maybe Tristan had stayed his hand in pity; perhaps he sought to torment his mind and heart. Maybe Tristan had seen a woman that depended on Joachim but that thought didn't cross the younger scouts head.

When the crowd dispersed Ardiath moved forward to see. She felt a morbid interest in the piled bodies, with their staring eyes and cold lips. They were just lying there. The blood covered their chest and was heavy. Not like the light trickles that flowed from her arm. Their clothes were sodden.

She reached a hand forward to touch their faces. It was cold and rough under her fingertips and she let them glide across his facial features. Dancing across the dead mans face. Joachim was shocked and snatched his wife's hand back from the bodies.

He saw something he hadn't seen before. There was a bloody T carved into each corpse's forehead. He stepped back rashly.

"Traitor," He rasped to himself forgetting about Ardiath.

"What?" She turned to him.

His eyes met hers and not really seeing he corrected himself, "Tristan."

"This is the work of Tristan?" Excitement crept into Ardiath's eyes. Had her prayers been answered?

Joachim nodded slowly, "I saw him. Down on the lake."

"You didn't tell me?" She demanded.

"I forgot," Joachim stuttered out weakly. Ardiath look like she would have made an issue about it but instead she impulsively hugged Joachim and kissed him.

"He was here. He hasn't forgotten about you," Ardiath was ecstatic.

Joachim turned a worried head towards the bodies, "No… no he hasn't!"

**AN: I'm back baby! I'm back! I have this whole stream of ideas. It's crazy… set of by… would you believe it… Dark Angel. I'm about to start that fic so if you're interested I suggest you mosy on over! I'm also writing a Buffy fic and it made me appreciate my KA reviews because you guys rock as reviewers. I get two reviewers on my Buffy story but there are thousands of fanfics over there. It's really humbled me and made me work harder and try and be a better writer. But I'm dying for a chapter to get reviewed by more than five people… Then I was cleaning out my room and found my traitor story plan and I was like hey… I like Ardiath…. She is one kick ass character and it's such an intense story line. Well people… big favour to ask you all… Review please review! Even just to say howdy and you couldn't give a crap about my story because I was a KA writer first and forever. My way of life may be update soon but there are all these pesky exams that happen round this time. **

**Love you all**

**MD666**


	7. Bandon Hill

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except a bit of time in which I'm going to update my stories.**

**BANDON HILL**

Ardiath looked up at the fort. This was it. This was the final battle where all would be decided. Whether she would be forever tied to these accursed Saxons or whether they would be saved. Joachim's old comrades! Joachim's older brother.

The word 'Tristan' had faded into silver scars and she hadn't cut herself again since seeing the bodies inscribed with the letter T. She had continued to report to Cynric's tent and pass information to Cedric. Cynric had become, if possible, more possessive of her. He liked having a plaything. One that his father didn't approve of.

Clearly he didn't know that Cedric was exploiting the situation to his advantage in an attempt to estrange his son.

Joachim was scouting around and Ardiath was worried for him. The whole Saxon army was gathered on the outside of the fort. Staring at the huge gates.

Ardiath stared too. These gates would judge her. These gates could save her. It all came back to one thing. One man.

Tristan.

_He was walking away from a battle. This was the first time he had ever considered it. He had been almost excited when Arthur announced a last mission for Rome. A chance to kill and destroy Saxons. He didn't like being a servant to Rome but as long as Rome directed him to hard battles he was satisfied with his lot._

_Till Dagonet had died and he had seen who was leading the Saxons to him and the fort._

_His little brother. Joachim the deserter. _

_And he had seen his wife although he had mistaken her for an army whore. When he looked better he saw a broken woman whose life was all that truly mattered to Joachim. Mattered so much that he would betray everything he had known prior. His obligation. His honour. His brother Tristan._

_Tristan had seen the raven-haired beauty and it complicated things._

_Not that things were simple before. It was never easy knowing that you had to kill your brother but now Joachim's actions made bizarre sense to Tristan. Though he had never experienced love of that magnitude. He may have fought that way for his mother but his mother was lying dead in the muddy earth of Sarmatia with his baby sister lying upon her breast._

_She had died for love and in a failed attempt to give life and Tristan could not forgive her for that. _

_His brother had to die. He must die and yet Tristan procrastinated and danced around the issue in his head. It was effortless to say 'must' but much harder to act upon._

_He knew that if he saw his brother he would need to kill him. If he fought in the battle he would slaughter him. _

_So he cheated. _

_He wouldn't fight. He ignored every instinct in his body that was screaming for revenge on the Saxons. He disobeyed the call to avenge Dagonet's death at their hands. _

_He would just ride away with the rest of the knights and not look back to this cursed and cold country._

_That, at least, had been the plan and it was swiftly crumbling beneath him. The other knights shifted, guilty, upon their horses. This wasn't right for them. It felt unnatural to walk away while Arthur stood alone on the hill. _

_Lancelot kept sighing and Bors wouldn't stop looking over his shoulder. Then the battle drums started and their horses, thinking they were near battle, reacted energetically._

_Tristan knew that moment that he was going to go back and kill his brother. He dismounted, walked to the wagon and began arming himself._

Cynric and Cedric faced Joachim. Ardiath stood a little way off watching the exchange.

"The Roman Auxiliary has left the wall," Joachim was saying slowly. Trying not to look at Ardiath. Her heart was breaking deep inside. Her hope had gone. Left with the fleeing remains of the Roman Auxiliary.

"And the horsemen?" Cedric demanded.

"Leading a caravan away from the fort," Joachim refused to look at his wife then because she would see the happiness on his face and wouldn't understand. Horsemen would mean Tristan and that would mean his own death. If he had to die to save Ardiath so be it but he wasn't willing to forsake her if he didn't have to.

"They're running south... with their tails between their legs," The men looked up in surprise. It was Ardiath who had spoken bitterly. She wasn't looking at them but running her fingers up and down her forearm.

"So there will be no resistance?" Cynric asked incredulously.

"A few dozen villagers," Joachim said stoically. He knew that those few dozen villagers were about to die.

There was a long pause before Cedric spoke again.

"We're going to slaughter your people," Cedric said cruelly, "I think you should watch. That tree might be a good place."

Both Ardiath and Joachim stared at him in disbelief. Would he really be so callous as to force Joachim to watch as he killed them?

"Up on the hill," Came a sudden frantic call.

"A single knight," Cynric muttered.

Cedric reached out and grasped Joachim harshly by the throat. The man struggled to breath. Ardiath was snapped out of her stupor. When she saw Cedric reach for Joachim she flew at him. There was no previous thought. It was automatic. She jumped on him and began clawing at his face.

Cedric flung her off him with a spare hand and grinned. He would have assaulted her husband sooner if he had known it would provoke such a magnificent reaction. His men hurried forward to restrain the hissing woman.

She held a dagger in her hand.

"Where did you get that?" Cedric asked off hand.

"I stole it," She breathed furious. Her eyes still on her strangled husband.

"Let him go," she cried kicking and squirming in the captives hold. They were getting increasingly frustrated with her and Joachim saw they would soon hit her or something similar.

"One man. A tiny fly on the back of your... great army," He rasped desperately. Cedric and the army's attention returned to him.

"Who is he?" Cedric asked coldly.

"Arthur!" Joachim replied. His eyes met Ardiath's then and she instantly stopped fighting.

The gates opened and the figure rode towards them.

Cedric flung Joachim away from him, "go climb that tree."

Joachim turned to Ardiath one last time and mouthed, "I love you."

"I love you too," She mimed back.

She saw Arthur faintly before she was pulled and pushed back to the very end of the army.

She had no idea what was happening or how much time was passing. She was too nervous for time to have much meaning for her. Had it been a minute or five hours.

She had heard word of more knights. And her heart swelled with hope.

Some of the army was dead. There was only a matter of time before the rest moved out.

And then they were gone and Ardiath was left alone amidst tents and fire remains. A pit of desolation but she knew somehow that the Saxons were going to die. Cedric and Cynric were going to die for all they had done.

She wished she could see the ocean. It would make her happy.

There was only smoke and silence now. She knew men were still out there fighting and screaming and dying but she was dead to all that.

She needed to find Joachim. That was what she needed to do. He would hold her and tell her it was over. She could feel again. Cry or even smile. She could dance in the rain. She could bury the bodies of her family.

She would never have to cut herself again.

In a trance she stumbled in the direction of the tree. She was exhausted now. Every thing was catching up to her. Everything that had happened.

The tree was no far off. That was good. Her legs were giving way but Joachim would hold her up. He always held her up.

There was a body lying in the grass.

Ardiath moved closer. So familiar.

The eyes were open and staring vacantly and there was an arrow protruding from his chest.

Ardiath's knees gave way and she was staring at the body not quite comprehending what she was seeing.

It was a jest. Cedric being cruel.

That couldn't be blood… not on her beloved Joachim.

Ardiath crawled the few feet to the body.

Something raw and painful exploded inside her. Something she had been repressing for some time now.

"No?" She managed to whisper, her lips trembling.

"No!" she said again, stronger than before. She pressed her lips to Joachim's. He was just lying there. He was wounded. He needed a healer. She was a healer she could help. Oh gods why didn't he kiss her back? Who could help him?

Her mind was turbulent. One thought chased after another.

She lifted his head into her lap. He didn't blink or stir. Why?

He was in too much pain. That was it. Any moment he was going to recognise his sweet Ardiath. And he would smile to show everything would be all right.

Why wouldn't he acknowledge her?

She stroked his hair off his head with soft hands.

"Joachim darling. We're free now. The Saxons are dying," Ardiath told him holding his head in her lap.

He didn't move.

"All that suffering wasn't in vain. Your brother saved us. Tristan saved you," Ardiath's voice broke. Her eyes were foggy and she couldn't see clearly. She could only make out her husbands face.

Her hands were trembling furiously now.

"I cut my self, beloved. I did. Look," and she showed her arm to him.

No reaction.

"I knew you would forgive me," Ardiath responded with glee as if her husband had spoken some word of love.

She had nothing more to say. She continued to stroke his face.

Her fingers brushed his cold lips and she burst into tears.

"You're dead," she sobbed, "You're dead aren't you, my sweet?"

"You're dead? How can you be dead Joachim? We made it this far. How dare you be dead!" She made as if to slap his face but couldn't make herself. She just cried harder. Hunched over her dead husband.

She saw the arrow. It was obscene and disgusting. She reached over and furiously pulled it out. She felt it come loose and saw the blood follow. An animalistic wail was emitted from her throat.

She saw someone approach.

Ardiath scrambled to her feet and pulled her husbands sword free. They would not touch his body whoever the hell they were.

The tears had stopped falling and all traces of the proud creature she had been were vanishing in the wake of her broken heart. She was a pathetic sad woman. She hadn't even properly told him she loved him before he left.

And Tristan knew it was his fault. Something wrenched in his body as he watched his brother's wife mourn his passing.

He held up a placating hand to the woman brandishing the sword. She was mad with grief.

"I don't want to fight," He stated.

"You are not going near him," She pulled the sword up weakly. Tristan watched her desperate attempts to mount an attack.

"Don't be foolish. I could kill you in an instant," he tried reaching her gently.

"Then I will die defending his body," She screamed, "as he died defending me."

She brought a shuddering hand to her mouth as she said it out loud. That he had died defending her. It was her fault. She gave a pitiful moan and lowered the sword. Her body was shaking.

Tristan could not move. He should confess to doing it. He had killed his own brother and destroyed everything this woman had left to care about. Why shouldn't he die in penance? Yet he couldn't force an admission from his lips.

He moved forward slowly and slowly plucked the sword from her hand. She yielded it easily and moved back to kneel by Joachim's body. Tristan threw the sword far away.

Tristan knelt beside her. He looked at his little brother's body. His eyes were wide open and staring. His wife had pushed his hair from his face. The arrow was gone and instead there was a gaping hole of blood. Tristan couldn't come to terms with the fact this was his fault.

His little baby brother whom he had played with as a boy. And laughed with and… and… he couldn't think with those staring blue eyes.

He reached over to shut them but Ardiath snatched his hand back.

"Do not touch him," She hissed and carefully smoothed Joachim's hair. Ardiath still half expected him to move or speak.

"Let me shut my brother's eyes, sister-in-law," Tristan murmured. Ardiath stared at him sharply.

"Tristan?" she asked softly. The man nodded.

Ardiath eyed him blankly before turning back to her husband.

Tristan moved to shut Joachim's eyes again. Ardiath didn't try and prevent him this time.

"Rest in peace little brother," He said softly and for the first time in an age tears threatened Tristan's eyes.

And Ardiath spoke.

"You used to be our hope," She turned to face him, "Now we have no hope."

Tristan stayed silent… he had no right to say anything to this woman.

**AN: I like this chapter. I just hope I portrayed Ardiath's grief well. Let me know what you think! Um and clearly Tristan is alive and survived Cedric. Lancelot did as well. Please review because reviews make me happy. **

**MD666**


	8. Grief

**Disclaimer**: don't own it! Wish I did but don't.

**GRIEF**

Ardiath sat for so long just watch Joachim lie there. If she didn't think about it she could imagine he was just asleep. Waiting to wake up. It was the silent presence to her side, which reminded her what had happened.

She was subconsciously her finger along the scarred skin of her forearm. She could feel the tears drying in her eyes and her breathing slow. Just sitting here was unbearable but she wouldn't leave him here.

Tristan was lost in his own thoughts. His baby brother. He had sworn to his father to protect him when they had left to serve Rome. But he had left and deserted. Tristan had feared him dead but deep down he thought he would know if his brother was deed. He would feel it somehow. And he did. At this very moment, kneeling in the mud and blood he felt the gaping emptiness and hurt rage in hist heart and stomach.

"Tristan, where are you?" A booming voice was crying.

Ardiath's head jerked up, panic clear on her face. They would come and take his body. Treat Joachim like a traitor. Her frantic eyes sought Tristan's.

"Do not," She rasped. Her voice was hoarse and she could not mutter more of a plea.

"It will be fine," Tristan assured her, his voice only slightly steadier.

"Tristan?" The loud voice came again. Ardiath felt hot tears burn in her eyes again and angrily lowered her eyes. She had survived, cold, with the Saxons all this time. She would not break in front of these Sarmatian knights.

"I am here Bors," Tristan called back, not standing up or leaving.

"Bloody hell, boy. You had us worried," The loud voice sounded relieved.

"What are you doing…" Bors voice dropped off when he saw the sight before him. The black haired girl sitting by a bloody body with Tristan slightly behind looking melancholic.

Bors slowly approached. He recognised the face. It was Joachim. The one who had deserted and had been leading them closer.

"Joachim," He breathed. Tristan nodded returning his eyes to his fallen brother. Ardiath remained silent. Neither seemed capable of moving.

"We should bring him inside the wall," Bors prodded. He knew Joachim had betrayed them but looking at their faces he couldn't bring himself to be harsh. Besides Tristan knew better than anyone what Joachim was.

Tristan nodded again and stood. Both men lifted Joachim and Ardiath cried out.

"It will be alright, lass," Bors assured her.

They walked toward the fort, struggling with the dead weight of the man.

"Who is she?" Bors murmured.

"His wife," Tristan responded. Bors looked up sharply but didn't say anything. Ardiath was trailing behind them, looking lost and aimless.

They moved through into the fort and Ardiath was brought to her knees by the sound of celebrating. It was so loud! How dare they be happy when her world was collapsing! Tristan saw the woman fall.

"Stop Bors," He commanded. The gently lowered the body. Bors went on to get Arthur.

"Are you well?" Tristan asked. Ardiath just looked past him.

To get her attention he grabbed her shoulders, "What is your name."

She looked at him and Tristan caught the full weight of her icy blue eyes. "Ardiath."

"Pardon?"

"Ardiath," She whispered loudly.

"Ardiath. I am so very sorry about Joachim. I am very sorry he died. He was my little brother and I should have protected him," Tristan professed earnestly. Ardiath nodded mutely, the noise still overwhelming.

"Ah you finally got the traitorous bastard," A voice yelled. Tristan winced as he heard Galahad.

Ardiaths eyes widened angrily.

"He coped it good," Gawain agreed. Ardiath bowed her head. Her fury was rising! Joachim had sacrificed his honour for her. For her to live. Ardiath pushed herself up. She glared at them. Even dirty and ragged she was a powerful presence; her dark hair framed her face and her blue eyes sparked.

"Who talks about my husband that way?" She demanded.

"Ardiath, do not do this!" Tristan asked quietly.

"I do," Galahad stepped forward defiantly. Ardiath slapped him hard across the face.

"Why you little whore," Galahad roared and rushed at her. Tristan leapt up to restrain the younger man.

"You swine!" Ardiath was cursing at him. "You ignorant bastard. Which one of you fired the arrow?"

Arthur arrived with Bors, "what is going on here?"

"This crazy woman attacked, Galahad," Gawain explained.

"Good lord, is that Joachim?" Arthur asked.

"Yes!" Ardiath snapped.

"Arthur, this is Joachim's wife," Tristan hurried to say before anyone else could speak.

"Was! I was his wife," Ardiath's lip trembled as she stared at Joachim's body.

"He betrayed us!" Arthur observed.

"To save me. To save me from the Saxons!" Ardiath cried.

"And betrayed his own brother," Gawain pointed at Tristan.

"I was raped. Every day I was raped by Cynric. He couldn't stop that from happening. He had to lie with me in his arms knowing that some man had touched my body!" Ardiath was hysterical now, "and all he could think of was his betrayal. He knew what he was doing but he wanted me alive."

There was silence and Ardiath didn't let it lie for much longer, "You have a nerve to talk of betraying when I can see in your eyes that you want to run. You wanted to run away as you resent Rome but you are too much of a coward." This was directed at Galahad.

"You have no idea," Arthur interrupted, "we could kill you for that."

"I have no need to fear for my life with you. You are Arthur defender of the innocent," Her tone was mocking, "But there is an entire other side to you! You are Arthur, slayer of women's husbands, Arthur Slayer of mother's sons. Arthur slayer of sister's brothers. Slayers of men's friends. Your famed kindness is an attempt at penance for your sins and even that is an illusion!"

Arthur reeled as if hit.

"Ardiath. You overstep your bounds," Tristan warned.

"Leave me with my husband," her spirit faltered, "Please let me mourn my husband without their judgement and hate. That is all I want."

"I can give you that even if I cannot be the saviour you needed," Tristan murmured. He turned and talked to Arthur. Arthur nodded slowly.

"We will grant whatever you ask of us if it is within out power. I am sorry for your lost," Arthur said genuinely. And he was. He remembered his fury at the woads for killing his mother.

Ardiath watched the knights retreating and collapsed by her husband. Her strength was fleeing.

"I am so sorry my darling. If I could put into words the many things I'm feeling I am not even certain I would feel better. But I make you a promise. I will avenge your death however I can. I will kill the man who did this to you."

**AN: very short chapter I know but what can you do! Hope you like!**

**MD666**


	9. Shadow

**Disclaimer:** Nothing to own!

**SHADOW**

Ardiath was like a shadow in the fort. A ghost of her former self as she trailed from room to room engaged in her own thoughts. Arthur had given her a room but she spoke to no body.

Joachim had been buried and the knights had attended the funeral. They had all privately made their amends with the scout as they watched his broken wife stare, almost uncomprehendingly, at his grave. Tristan had driven the sword deep into the ground as the smoke from the ceremonial fire danced around their ankles.

Galahad had never felt so torn in his life. He had confided in Joachim when they had been young knights. He had confessed to him all his hatred towards Roman's and his desire to escape and then the news came one morning that Joachim had left in the night. Had abandoned him there. Galahad always saw this as betrayal and used this fire to create and indignant righteousness that he had stayed while Joachim fled.

But he had harboured a feeling of jealously that he was somewhere else, living life as he desired. He remembered the moment Tristan told them that Joachim was leading the Saxon army towards them. The betrayal was new and fresh. But watching Ardiath he could understand to a certain extent what had driven the man to do it. She was beautiful to be sure but he could see her resilient spirit that had outlasted so much. If only Galahad could swallow his pride he would offer his condolences. But he could not.

None of the Knights could.

Arthur watched Ardiath's cold, icy eyes and felt strong pity for this wretch. She was no longer a complete human being but a husk of a vibrant young woman. He made her welcome in his home but he could do little else to ease her suffering. A man on his side had killed her husband and he couldn't even name the man for her peace of mind.

Bors had chosen to lay Joachim next to Dagonet. He knew, of all people, Dagonet would not hold a grudge and would not blame Joachim for bringing his death. Dagonet had been the older brother to most of the knights and he could be Joachim's brother in death. He would have liked to explain this to Ardiath. He wanted to share the comforting thought that Dagonet would watch her husband but he could not reach out to her.

They had trailed away leaving Ardiath by the mound of dirt that showed where Joachim lay. Tristan was the last to move away and he eyed her, hesitantly. He was the only person with less emotion than Ardiath. While she was close off, she still radiated sadness and her whole demeanour reflected her mourning but Tristan's face was neutral and blank. He kept his despair tightly locked inside his chest.

Ardiath could not see any one else's grief. She was not interested as she moved pointlessly through each long day. The world seems grey and noises were filtered and bland. If her existence became too surreal and she began to doubt her who she was or what had happened she would look at her arm.

The word Tristan still scared her forearm. It reminded her of her pain. Sometimes she would hold the knife she had stolen from the Saxons and hold it poised over her arm. The tip would barely graze the skin and there would be no blood. She did not cut herself the way she had used to because it did not feel right. Or perhaps the word was appropriate. It did not feel appropriate with Joachim dead. To spill her own life out in hot red gushes seemed foolish and selfish.

This was not the way life should be and anybody could see that if Ardiath did not receive some semblance of help soon she would fade away. The blue would seep out of her eyes leaving a sterile whiteness. But nobody helped.

Some wanted to help but it was too hard. What did one say to a woman who had lost her family and her husband in such a short span of time? There was nothing. So the knights busied themselves with the promise of returning home after Arthur's and Guinevere's wedding. They would visit then come back to help Arthur establish his country. Tristan was dreading the moment of telling his father he had failed to protect Joachim when it had been his responsibility. Even worse, he was terrified of admitting he had been the monster who strung the arrow. He was a monster. After looking into Ardiath's dying eye's he had no doubt.

Ardiath moved carefully through the villagers. It was Arthur's wedding today but that didn't matter to her. It was not that she hated him so much that she didn't care but rather she was only vaguely aware of the event. In her detached continuation only small facts trickled into her mind. Most of her day was dark and she lost large spaces of time when she would devote herself to reflection. Days melded into other days until she had forgotten what time passage meant. She remembered to sleep when the sun was gone and rise when it ascended.

There were too many people in the street and her dim alertness made it hard to navigate through the hard bodies. She subconsciously turned down a back alley. She was out the back of the shops she observed indistinctly.

"Here hold him for me," A baby was thrust into her arms by a young. The babe was mewling and crying. Ardiath looked up at the woman whose entire attention was devoted to food preparation. Her blank face and stare must have been felt by the woman who looked up and took on an expression of disconcerted concern.

"What have you never held a babe before?" The woman demanded roughly. Ardiath mutely nodded. The woman scrutinised her closely.

"Ah I recognise you. Yer the widowed lass. I'm sorry for yer loss!" The woman comment sincerely.

Ardiath did not react but looked down at the thrashing infant in her arms. Ardiath felt something stir inside her staring at the child. Was something wrong with it? Was that why it was so discontent? Her bewilderment must have shown briefly before being swallowed by stoic insouciance.

The woman smiled warmly and reassured her that it was natural. "Babies make fusses oft times. I am Vanora by the way. If you could just hold him for a time while I am knee deep in cooking I would appreciate it."

Ardiath nodded and sat on an old barrel still nursing the baby. The Baby's face had stopped screaming and was staring at her with round eyes. It's mouth quirked inquisitively. Ardiath stared back, startled by the being of new life.

It pulled her finger into its mouth and sucked on in. It looked disappointed for some reason.

"He's hungry. He's looking for milk but he'll have to wait till I finish this before I can feed him!"

"Where is his father?" Ardiath asked quietly. Her voice was hoarse and raspy since she had not spoken since the funeral. She was startled by her own question.

"Doin' what he does best I imagine. Being absent," Vanora groaned, "Or drinking."

Ardiath tilted her head and tried to process what this woman had said. She tried to recall the days when she had listened to other woman complain about their husbands. Being lazy or drinking too much. It seemed so far away from where she was right now.

"You get along well with your husband?" Ardiath, in another revelation, continued the conversation. She liked this woman with so much authority to her young face. Vanora had a rustic and homey feel about her, which comforted Ardiath. Her and her child were making Ardiath feel again. She missed clarified emotions although she welcomed the absence of no painful ones.

"Not my husband. I tell you! Eleven children to our names and he stubbornly refuses to marry me," Vanora threw something into a pot frustrated.

Ardiath widened her eyes in response. Her flesh felt tight on her face from lack of use.

"Eleven?" Her voice lacked any exclamation but Vanora predicted what tone was intended.

"Eleven and probably more where that came from," Vanora sounded disgruntled.

"Men shy away from commitment," Ardiath automatically replied, looking at the baby in her arms.

Vanora examined the woman intently. She had heard enough stories about the 'traitors wife' to know she never engaged in conversation. She was like a wraith and many superstitious people claimed she was a demon on faerie, pining for her lost knight. Standing before her now Vanora knew she was just a sad young woman who had lost everything.

The Baby gurgled.

"That's a laugh, that is!" Vanora observed happily. Ardiath smiled. It was small but it was there.

"I have to go," Ardiath said softly.

"Thank you for minding the babe for me," Vanora grinned.

"No thank you," Ardiath replied and left before Vanora had any time ponder the other woman enigmatic answer

The wedding took place by the cliffs. Ardiath liked it there. She felt her affinity with the sea and it reminded her of being home. It was a simple happy wedding with the woads and villagers joining together against future foes and Rome. Ardiath did not join the throng but watched from some higher ground.

She lost track of what was happening as she gazed out to sea and witnessed the magnificent power in those waves. She did not notice the lone figure walking up to join her.

Tristan did not say anything to her but sat beside her. She seemed enthralled with the movement of the ocean and completely oblivious to the fact the wedding was over.

"When do you leave for Sarmatia?" Ardiath said. It was the first time she had directly addressed Tristan.

"In a few days time," Tristan answered simply.

"Would you be adverse to a travelling companion?"

"To where? Have you got relatives in a neighbouring village?"

Ardiath shook her head as he mistook her question. "I wish to go to Sarmatia and meet my father in law. See where Joachim grew up."

Her tone was raw with pain and but Tristan felt relieved that she was displaying emotion! It meant there was hope for her of healing. She was tugging on a scarf that she had wound up her arm, waiting for Tristan to say something.

"We would travel most of the way with the other knights," Tristan advised, uncertain whether he himself wanted her along. Having her in his sight brought on fresh onslaughts of guilt because of his deed. To have her with him every day and night under his care was almost too painful to think of. But did he not owe his brother something? He could continue caring for the person his brother loved so much that he had given up everything for. He kept his face blank during that entire thought process and his stillness began to unnerve Ardiath.

"I do not mind being around them." Ardiath tried to make him speak. In the past days she had thought that people were too loud and rambunctious but know she wished he was talk and fill the empty silence because it held too much promise of hurtful things unsaid.

"I would be happy to take you to my tribe," Tristan stated finally. He stood and walked away wondering why he approached her in the first place when he knew it would just be difficult but now he a few months to spend with her to torture himself and wallow in guilt. To think of how he denied help to people who needed it. He could have helped them escape on that night he first saw Ardiath but he didn't. He had left them there to die! Now he must deal with the consequences.

**AN: Traitor does not feel right in longer chapters besides it is kind of exhausting with the detail and the angst. I'd appreciate any reviews. Shout outs or hellos or praise or gardening tips or criticisms! Whatever strikes your fancy!**

**MD666**


	10. Companion

**Disclaimer: **nope nothing nada! I mean I wish but I don't!

**COMPANION**

The knights mused that Ardiath may possibly be quieter then Tristan on their journey towards Sarmatia. But unlike Tristan they found she impressed her mood on them. Around her they were solemn and reserved, afraid that if they joked she would have an extreme negative reaction. This was taking its toll on them. Gawain and Galahad found their minds full of witty things to say and they bit them back. Lancelot shot her resentful looks.

Tristan stared down and glares on her behalf as she seemed utterly unaware of what was going on around her and transfixed with the perpetual grey clouds and setting.

She wasn't useless though. She fetched fire wood and helped cooked. She rode her horse near the back so it wasn't as if she was intentionally intruding on their merriment.

Ardiath knew that she was putting the knights on edge. They may have thought she didn't and she did not want to place Tristan, who had taken on a protective role, in the compromising position of choosing between his friends and his sister in law.

They had stopped for the knight and after setting up their new tents, it looked like rain after all, she disappeared for about half an hour to collect firewood. She came back holding a measly armful and the knights assumed there was not much firewood in the area. There was actually plenty but Ardiath had gotten preoccupied, which happened less and less frequently.

But the ground had been very muddy and her booted feet sunk deep into the ground leaving tracks. There were other tracks around the mud. Some people, probably locals, and some animal and it made Ardiath wonder. Her husband had tracked people with their footsteps but what had that meant. A footstep was not a person, it was progression. Showing movement. You could not determine bad or good from footsteps.

She looked at hers with growing interest. What did hers tell her? Not much. They did not tell her that she had black hair and icy eyes. They did not say whether she cut herself or not. There were clumps of grass in the mud, trodden down and destroyed. Ardiath felt a detached moment of sadness before turning back to the task at hand.

They had lit the fire and cooked some meat, sitting around the campfire in silence when it had started to rain. The knights bolted for their tents. They despised the rain. It made them think fondly of Bors who hadn't come with them. Preferring to stay with his children. He had promised to wait till the knights were back to marry Vanora. Vanora had tapped her foot impatiently and shifted her baby to the other hip when she heard that.

They heard a laugh outside and drew back their tent flaps to see if it was raiders. Their eyes widened when they caught sight of Ardiath. Head flung back and arms outstretched looking the happiest they had ever seen her.

She was dancing in circles swaying in time to the wind.

"Gods, she must be freezing," Gawain muttered to Galahad who was sharing his tent.

Tristan and Lancelot exchanged looks from their tent a little to the left. The rain was not gently oozing from the sky but pelting down harshly against her skin.

Ardiath was cold and the rain was stinging a little but it was rain. The first rain since Joachim died and she was letting it wash her clean. It couldn't reach her broken heart but it took away the horrible aches in her body. The feeling that she was dirty and cramped, which she found impossible to rid herself of before now came gushing away in the new cold.

And she had laughed. It had gurgled up and slipped out before she could think or repress it. It felt incredibly good to express herself. It was something genuine that wasn't sadness.

She knew the knights were watching her. She didn't move for them or try to block out their watchful gaze. She danced and danced until she was so tired she couldn't move and then she stopped and stood in the rain. Her hair was plastered flat to her head and dress clinging to her body. The rain slid over her face, down her nose, over her cheekbones and clung to her eyelashes. She ran her hands over her face, pushing her hair back and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again she locked stares with Tristan. Meeting his brown eyes, which were, in some ways, as cold as hers. Tristan saw how calm she looked but for the first time fully aware. She was completely inside her mind and in the moment, which hadn't happened since the Saxon invasion.

Tristan pulled himself out of the tent to stand just outside in the rain too. As it washed away the top level of her sadness it took the edge of his guilt. He could think of his little brother without shooting pains in his heart that made it hard to breath or think.

"What are you doing Tristan?" Lancelot demanded. Tristan shrugged. He had no idea. He only knew it felt better out there in the cold and the wet for some reason.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ardiath found herself alone in a campsite with Galahad a week later.

He looked like he wanted to break the silence but just couldn't bring himself to do it. He would open his mouth and then shut it. Then he would open it again and struggle to find words but he never managed them. He turned his eyes downcast and continued cleaning his sword feeling embarrassed.

"What?"

Galahad brought his head up quickly and found Ardiath staring at him quizzically. Her face was soft and there was a tiny upturn of her lips.

"I wanted to talk," Galahad stuttered.

"About?" Ardiath asked warily. She did not want to talk about their original fight or Joachim.

"About anything!" Galahad said, "This quiet is not good for people. Makes us forget we exist with others."

"Alright. Speak then!"

Galahad repeated the same opening and closing of the mouth that he had done previously. Now he had been put on the spot to come up with a conversation he couldn't for the life of him think one up!

"Weapons!" He blurted out and immediately regretted it. Maybe that would bring up painful memories about her husbands demise.

Ardiath's face didn't change, "What about them?"

"Do you have one?" Galahad asked.

"Yes."

This startled Galahad. "Really? What kind?"

"Just a Saxon dagger that I stole. I don't think it is very good," Ardiath said.

"Can I see?"

Ardiath worked the blade out of its hiding spot and handed it to him. He turned it over slowly and nodded.

"It's crude but that's to be expected from the Saxons. It's strong though and will drive true," Galahad said.

"I am not sure how to use it properly," Ardiath confessed.

"You should ask Gawain or Tristan to help. They are the best of us," Galahad said.

"What am I the best of?" Gawain's voice travelled through the air, "I know I am the best looking but…" He trailed off when saw Ardiath and felt immediately bad for joking.

"I was telling her that you are the best knife fighter and that you might teacher her," Galahad said.

"You were having a conversation?" Gawain blurted out before he could stop himself.

Ardiath narrowed her eyes. "Thank you."

Gawain grinned apologetically and lowered himself onto a log near the pair. "You are just very quiet."

"Men. They say they want a silent woman and then when they have one they complain."

It took them a moment to realise she was not serious. They smiled relieved.

"So you would like to learn how to use a dagger then?" Gawain moved the conversation along.

Ardiath nodded and pointed at the dagger Galahad was holding. "That's mine."

"Where did you get a blade?" Gawain was clearly confused. What little he knew about Ardiath led him to believe he had been a simple village woman living on the coast.

"I stole it." Her blue eyes glittered.

The men laughed, tickled by the thought of a woman stealing from the Saxons. Ardiath felt a smile taking place on her face and couldn't stop it. Their laugh was infectious and put her in a better mood.

"Do we have to lock up our weapons?" Galahad asked.

"Well if I have to stomach one more night of your cooking I may use your own weapon against you." Ardiath tried to keep her face straight but failed.

Gawain snorted and sniggered in Galahads face, who looked very offended.

"Well I don't have to worry. You can't use the weapon well." Galahad tried to sound brave and haughty.

"For that cause alone I would teach her," Gawain promised laughing harder.

That evening Galahad did not cook but Lancelot who had returned with Tristan carrying a wild animal they had hunted. They noticed the change of mood but said nothing. Ardiath did not always join in on their jokes or laugh all the times but the atmosphere was better and not so pressured. They no longer resented Ardiath's presence.

**AN: I think I like shorter chapters for Traitor. Yeah I have really nothing to say except I was trying to show the progression of Ardiath's character and the healing process she is undertaking.**

**MD666**


	11. Sea

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, unfortunately.

**SEA**

They had to travel by sea to reach the mainland of Europe and the knights were dreading it. The one time they had travelled across the water was when they first arrived at Britain. They were young, untried and untrained. A sword was given to them and they were expected to do the best with it that they could.

They had picked up things, learned from older knights and let an instinct for survival guide them. They had done this until they were generally considered the best warriors in the land and they had been given to Arthur's leadership.

That one sea trip carried so many emotions that had unconsciously burned their way onto the knight's mind. Perhaps it was not the journey itself that had made them hate their brief time on the tossing turning ocean but a feeling. The feeling that they were surrendering their freedom for the next fifteen years in servitude to a cause they hadn't believed in.

"It looks wet." Gawain commented.

"It is the ocean," Lancelot observed, drly.

"I know that," Gawain replied flustered. "It's just that we thought we were leaving this forsaken island and it's rain behind. And now more water stretched out for miles before us."

"Forsaken?" Ardiath questioned. It was a soft question without emotion.

Gawain stared for a second wondering how to answer that. He didn't want to offend her or ostracise her in any way. Ardiath and the knights had only recently relaxed into each other's company. Joachim's memory was a painful rift between them.

It was delicate as the knights did not want to upset her with a careless remark and Ardiath had often slipped into states of complete distraction whilst her mind wandered far from the present.

That was why Gawain paused before talking. This was Ardiath's home and, while she had never been a rebel in the forest, she was most likely not going to well receive slander against her nation.

Gawain shouldn't have bothered over analysing his answer. Ardiath wasn't paying him any attention. Her breath was hitching in her throat as she saw her beautiful ocean. Seas were rough today and it raged furiously. Untamed and unstoppable. She had to force herself to remain beside the knights on her horse and not take off at a canter.

Her home had been only a few miles away. She could have ridden to see it but she didn't want to. She knew what would await her. Charcoaled ruins and rotting bodies of friends and her father.

"We camp here tonight and ship out tomorrow." Tristan spoke quietly for the first time. He had his careful eyes on the ocean also but he did not share the adoration Ardiath felt for what, to her, represented freedom. He saw it as a means home but it wouldn't be until he felt Sarmatian grass under his feet that he would truly feel the extent of his liberation and his damnation.

He had sworn to protect his brother before he left and what had happened. All he brought back was bad tidings and the widow of his brother. He had gone out of his way to ensure that she was not harmed on this journey, emotionally or physically. It was out of character for Tristan to care for a woman this way but these were no ordinary circumstances.

Honestly he did not feel anything much toward Ardiath. It was guilt that motivated him. Guilt at the death he had caused. Just as she claimed this trip to Sarmatia would heal her, he hoped assisting her would free his consciousness.

When he had made this silent bargain with himself to watch over her he had worried because what if she wanted to talk. Tristan was hopeless at talking. He was bad with people who were not his fellow knights. He didn't have to worry, she mostly kept to herself.

Finally the knights kicked their horses into action and Ardiath trailed behind them. They set up the tents and then busied themselves with the chores. Firewood was gathered and Galahad was delegated the duty of cooking.

"My poor stomach," Ardiath stated quietly when she saw Galahad bent by the fire. He gave her a small smile, relieved to see her making a joke.

"Don't worry, I'll try and make it edible," Galahad offered.

"You had better. You will ruin my reunion with the sea if I have a poor belly tomorrow."

"My reunion is already unsteady," Galahad confessed. "I just hope the lady ocean is of a fair temper when we sail."

"I'm sure if I ask her nicely she will comply." Ardiath stood and headed toward the ocean.

"Where are you going?" Galahad asked bemused.

"To beg her grace on your behalf!"

Galahad thought she was jesting but she continued walking. He shrugged. Ardiath always walked off. At first it had worried them with bandits and woads that resisted unification under Arthur but eventually they accepted it. They could only do their best to protect her and only if she allowed it.

Ardiath had wanted to go to the water as soon as it had arisen in her eyesight but she waited. She didn't quite understand what held her still when everything she had craved for was right there before her.

She slipped off her shoes when she reached the sand. She savoured the texture against her feet. The sand was cold to her feet; the sun had been hiding so there had been nothing to warm it.

It was grey with shells and seaweed, not the most beautiful beach she had ever laid eyes on but to her, in this moment, it was lovely. The water roared and crashed in huge waves. It was pounding the shore and each thundering sound sent a thrill up her body.

It was like a furious lover, welcoming her home violently, passionately. But still she approached slowly. Would the water remember her? Would its cool, living embrace still hold magic or had a Saxon touch perverted everything?

The first bit of water danced around her toes. The sea was no longer angry but playful. Calling her back, daring her in. Ardiath smiled. It still felt rare on her face, as if the muscles did not recognise the expression. Her eyes were not icy but soft.

She walked deeper and deeper in. The waves crashed at her and she had to fight her way. Each step was hard and it wasn't long before she was soaking and freezing. She laughed as a waved pushed her under. People unaccustomed to the water might call these conditions dangerous but she knew better. It was challenging certainly but not dangerous. There was not even an undercurrent pulling out to sea.

She played with the waves, weaving in and out dodging the most powerful crashes. It was a game she hadn't played for years. A thing she had taken for granted but no longer. Impulsively she began talking as if there was really a motherly essence that could listen.

She spoke of many things that made no sense. She asked for a smooth journey for Galahad. She showed the ocean her arm and it kissed the scars. The ocean forgave her. She just needed to forgive herself. It would take a while but she knew she must. As if sensing her revelation the ocean deposited her on the beach with a surging rush of water.

Ardiath lay on the beech and watched the sky. The sun was setting behind the cloud cover. Despite the overcast day she could tell when the sun was there and when it wasn't. It was getting colder and the wash of colours on the far horizon indicated so.

A face appeared above hers. It was Tristan. Ardiath didn't meet his eyes, instead looking at his feet. His father has said that one could tell a lot about a person by whether they removed their shoes or not when they were on the beach. Tristan hadn't taken his off.

Ardiath sighed. "You should walk barefoot on the sand. It's good!"

"You're soaking," Tristan stated. He immediately felt stupid. Of course she already knew she was wet. His power of observation must have been impressive. His internal berating did not show on his face, which he kept neutral.

"I was swimming. I missed the ocean," Ardiath explained as she stood. She automatically checked that her arm was covered. Satisfied that it was, she went in search of her shoes. Tristan trailed after her silently.

Back at the camp the other three knights stared at her. Dinner was ready and that was why Tristan had been sent to fetch her.

"If I had known that you would get this wet asking for a safe journey I would have stopped you," Galahad quipped.

There was a new light in her eyes that made her face seem warmer, more open. She nodded happily at Galahad. "I decided to swim."

"We can all see that," Lancelot said. She looked a bit like a puppy who had just stumbled into a pond and was delighted by the discovery. Now she was dragging her wet self home for inspection by the owner.

Ardiath went to her tent to change so she did not catch a chill in the night air. The men looked at each other around the fire.

"She seems better," Lancelot finally noted.

"I, for one, am glad," Gawain decreed with a mouthful of food. "All that tip toeing round made me edgy."

"You aren't a subtle one," Galahad said with a grimace as he caught sight of the food rolling around in Gawains mouth.

"But I am pretty!" Gawain said and swallowed the mouthful.

Lancelot shook his head. "I hate to say but I agree with Gawain. Grief is an ugly emotion for everyone, not just for the one who is the source."

It was if his words trigged the memory that Tristan was Joachim's brother and perhaps he may feel slighted by their casual addressing of grief but they could not see any change of emotion on the scouts face as he fished around in his bag and produced an apple. None of the knights knew that he had killed Joachim.

Ardiath re-emerged, not quite as exuberant as before but it was one of her better nights. Lancelot, Gawain and Galahad conversed about past conquests with Tristan injecting a word of two, to deflate an ego or to reassure that he wasn't a eunuch. Ardiath listened contentedly till she felt too tired to remain.

In the morning the sun was bright and the sea was still. The wind whispered softly as the knights approached the boat. Arthur had sent word, and coin, ahead of the knights so that the captain was ready when they arrived.

He welcomed them warmly, a native Britain from a village farther up from Ardiath's. His town had not endured the Saxon invasion and was lucky to survive.

"Clear skies and smooth seas," He grinned widely, "A blessing to be sure after yesterdays weather."

Galahad glanced at Ardiath significantly.

"I said I would ask," She said in answer to his look. He smiled but it was weak. He tried to decide if it was coincidence or if she was some water shaman. It was of course just good luck and his expression amused Ardiath.

The pitching of the boats unhinged the knights but it was a comforting rocking to Ardiath, much more welcome then the lurch of a horse. As the land got smaller and smaller Ardiath closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This was her chance for salvation and she was going to embrace it because if she didn't she was going to fade away.

**AN: I wanted someone to update their story, which I loved and then they said they wanted me to update traitor so I thought, "hmm that's fair." So here it is. Review and be gentle I may be out of touch.**

**MD666**


	12. Pitching

**PITCHING**

The sea was as clam as a millpond but this could not prevent Gawain from hanging over the side of the railings vomiting breakfast violently into the calm blue. Ardiath stood beside him for a while patting him slowly on the back making sympathetic clucking sounds. Though secretly she couldn't understand how anyone could be seasick on this type of water. Lancelot was chatting jaunitly with Galahad, both seeming oblivious to their fellow knights plight.

Tristian sat by himself crarving some wood into the shape of a hilt. It would make an excellent base for a hunting knife.

Gawain shoulders tensed and he began wretching somemore. There was nothing left in his stomach and Ardiath narrowed her eyes in concern. This futile heaving was going to damage his stomach. She swiftly fetched some water and made him tilt his head so he could take a couple of sips. He was clearly thirsty but Ardiath only let him have a little. She had seen land sicknesses like this. She knew what was coming next.

His face was peaceful for a moment but then he began breath faster. He was trying to maintain control. This valiant attempt didn't last long and he threw himself back over the rails just before a threw wave hit him. It was not a violent as the last one. Ardiath keep this up with the water. He steadily began bringing up less and less. This was a good sign but he was weakening. Ardiath had to warp her arms around him to keep him upright and even then he was slumping heavily upon her.

She was relieved when Tristian appeared and took his weight. "Is he alright?"

"I do not know," Ardiath confessed honestly.

"I am dying," Gawain contributed weakly.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ardiath scolded him but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.

The captain walked over to them. "Some of my boys told me ye were having a spot of bother with one of your lads." He addressed Ardiath.

"Sea sickness," Ardiath explained.

"Uh a might Sarmatian Knight tamed by our lady ocean.. when she's in a good mood and all!" The crew near by laughed. Gawain couldn't retort but he managed a particularly rude symbol with his fingers.

This made them roar louder and the Captain clapped him on the back. "Still got some spirit in ye yet! We might be able to save you from death!"

Gawain blanched.

"I am joking son. Let's get ye down in a bed. You can sleep it off." Between Tristain and the Captain they got Gawain settled. He fell asleep pretty quickly.

"Will he be alright?" Tristain repeated his question to the Captain.

"He'll be fine! Just needs to get his sea legs! He should thank his blessings the weather is like this but it's not much use for travelling."

As if the very elements themselves had heard him there was a shout. "Wind. Steady and strong!"

"Well then ride her," The Captain shouted back, tramping up the stairs. Ardiath followed him without looking at Tristain. The awake Knight shot a look at his comrade and satisfied that he was comfortable, followed her upwards.

The Captain was arguing with one of his crew. "We need the sail open!"

"We're short of crew cap'in!"

Ardiath shot a look at the sail. It needed it's ties undone but the rest were occupied with the other sails, steering and ropes.

"I can do it," She said eyeing the rope lader up.

"That's awfully high, missy!" The crew member observed looking at her doubtfully.

"I lived on a cliff most of my life," She replied. Ardiath strode over to the lader with more conviction than Tristain had seen in her. Lancelot and Galahad had moved over, drawn by the loud voices. Ardiath, tucked up her skirts so an indecent amount of leg was showing. They were too skinny and pasty from lack of sun however there were cat calls from the crew but she ignored them. The were soon silenced as they saw the ease she moved up the lader.

Galahad let out a low whistle. Tristian turned to glare at him.

Galahad looked defensive. "She's a good climber! Nothing else!"

Up top she moved with a slow grace untying the binds. The sun behind her shone on her hair. Tristian could understand why his brother had stayed and married her. She looked like an angel with her snowy skin. He could certainly see it now when she was too far away to see the empty eyes.

Ardiath was quite happy up here. It was dangerous and one wrong move could mean her death but she couldn't bring herself to be frightened. She knew as long as she was careful she would be fine. A few days ago she might have been purposefully reckless. But just as her fingers fumbled with the last tie she realised that she wanted to live. She paused. She looked down at the new people in her life. Joachim's brother and fiends. Were they her new family?

Down bellow they saw her stop moving as she looked down.

"She's frozen," one man commented ruefully.

"All bonny, lass?" the Captain called. She didn't answer. Tristian took a step towards the ladder intent on going up and saving her but she caught his eye. Ardiath shook her head and lifted a hand to indicate that she was sound.

The last tie came undone and the sail blew out.

She began the slow climb back down, somewhat shocked at her revelation. Hope was stiring inside her. The first hope in so very long. She was distracted and she didn't notice her foot tangle untill it was too late. Her hands slipped off the rope and she fell. Tristian was underneath and caught her with ease.

"Thank you."

Two simple words but Tristian suspected they meant more than simple gratification at catching her.

"You are my sister. I am here for you!" The words felt unsually sour on his toungue. Brittle and false. Guilt, he told himself. Guilt at being an evil bastard. He placed her uncerimoniously on her feet before striding away.

Ardiath looked confused. Had she offended him? That man was a walking contradiction. So very different to Joachims stable love.

Ardiath opened her mouth to call out after him. To demand a confession. Something uncharacteristic for Ardiath. She was the one who made Joachim ask. He was _her_ calming influence.

She was prevented from going any futher by the arrival of Lancelot.

"You better hitch down the skirt of yours. You're driving the men on board wild. All of them." He wiggled his eye brows suggestivly.

Before any such display would have caused nausea and fear. If it had been a Saxon who knew what would come afterwards. But it was Lancelot. Predestined to flirt with anything that moved. In fact his actions spoke more of the knights increasing acceptance of Ardiath then a real intent upon seduction.

Still confused but managing a rare smile Ardiath lowered her skirts to a modest level. "If my father could see me now," she muttered.

"Is he..." Galahad started to ask before Lancelot cuffed him on the back of the head.

"Dead?" Ardiath finished for him.

Galahad looked a little sheepish but nodded his head.

Ardiath sighed. "Yes." She had long ago coped with the death of her family, friends and neighbours. They were old wounds visible only in memories and in the scars on her arm. Even Joachim was fading. Yes fading. His loss thudded like a dull ache, echoing in her heart but the acute agony was disapating. She was torn between relief and fear.

Lancelot and Galahad thought that she would no longer say anything on the subject so the surprise was great when she started talking again.

"It was the Saxons. They took nearly everything!" Her face was calm but her blue eyes were cold.

"What did they leave you with then?" Lancelot asked curiously.

"Joachim and my will to live." It felt good to talk about it. Tristian closed his eyes in painful memory. He could hear everyword she said, obscured by the stairs of the boat. All that she had posssesed he had taken. And she didn't know who to blame even. She didn't know that the person who had promised to catch her was a murder. A brother slayer.

The knights were no strangers to loss but at least they knew their families were alive or were when they had been taken.

Galahad took a breath then began to speak hesitantly. "And we took Joachim. One of us."

"Still it was ultimately the Saxons who caused his downfall." Her eyes were over bright and she shuddered as she inhaled. "One of you may have drawn the arrow but the Saxons marked his downfall long before that."

Tristian felt hope rising. Maybe she would forgive him one day if she knew.

"Tell us what he was like?" Lancelot asked.

Ardiath looked startled by the request. "But you knew him."

"As a knight where he was rather unhappy," Galahad noted.

"He was happy when I knew him. Very stable, very loving. He enjoyed our simple life on the coast! I know he felt bad about abandonning you all. He told stories of the fort and the great men there. If he had to die he would be happy to know it was in protecting his wife. He loved me and he loved his knights. You were his family. He vaalued family."

Tristian couldn't listen to anymore. No one could see it by looking at him but the scout was aching. He looked down and realised his hands were shaking. He was going to have to tell Ardiath something whether he was forgiven or damned.


End file.
